Those nights <br />when I <br />pulled away <br />from sleep <br />and waited <br />for my words <br />to settle in <br />hunger was <br />well fed <br />with thirsty lines <br />inside a legal pad <br />written by <br />my only pen <br />spitting out <br />blue ink flowing <br />with the sounds <br />of the Grateful Dead <br />empty bottles <br />sat on top <br />of my red <br />mahogany piano <br />basking in the <br />brilliance of the moon <br />peeking through <br />my open windows <br />teasing my four cats <br />wide awake and <br />waiting for something <br />to get trapped <br />between myself <br />and maybe them <br />before the shadows <br />slowly vanished <br />to let our moments <br />of youth escape <br />before another day <br />would show its face <br />and take away <br />what was not written <br />and never would be…<br /><br />Charles Lara<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/engraved/
