May

 

 May

 What are you doing alone these days?

 Sighing on windowsills and fogging the pane?

 Do you sleep with watchful eye?

 There’s no rest for the wicked.

 

Do you still smoke a lot?

 Still cursing when the ink blots?

Do you cry when no one is around?

 I still do.

 

Do you walk when it rains?

   Will you still sing about your pain?

Do you still st-stamer when reading aloud?

      As long as you will, I’ll listen.

 

      So what are we doing alone these days?

       Since it seems we’re both quite the same.

         Do you wish that we could stay this intrepid?

   Alone in the month of may…

    ~Sarah M.

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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