Tossed and turned vehemently again.
Apathetic and stoic you
show no signs of a struggle.
Our what feeds our why
halted only by our when.
At the scene of our crime
remains unsolved our puzzle.
Your guilty feet leave
no new prints behind.
I hate that, yet again
you’ve overpowered my mind.
Cruel, cruel nightwalker are ye.
Never you tire of smearing
my heart’s chalk outline?

Photo Credit: hernanpba Flickr via Compfight cc

Write a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *