Sunday, November 27, 2011


Eight A.M.,
I'm out of bed,
Dreading my
day ahead

On my way,
At my desk,
I drift away
Right and left

She's always there,
in my sight,
never out
of my mind's eye

Away from her,
By a hundred miles,
Yet in no time,
Am by her side

Trees and birdies
on lazy evenings
like in the movies
But is it worth it?

And afterwards
as everything subsides,
That's when I,

I'm a fool in my
Own imagination
Loving whom
Without reciprocation

Now its eight P.M.,
in this world,
I'm heading home
Where i'll be alone

Its also eight P.M.
In another world,
But where I'm heading to
Her heart's my home..