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no title 2/ bez tytulu


A Poem by Artur

 

 

 

Tak mi trudno wytrzymać

 

 

Samotnego kładzenia się spać

 

 

Przeklęcie długich nocy

 

 

Zimnego łóżka

 

 

Pustej obok poduszki

 

 

I poranków bez cienia ciepła


 

 

Kiedy jednak muszę wstać

 

 

Szukam światła

 

 

Jak ćma co leci do żarówki

 

 

Rzucam się na napotkanych ludzi

 

 

Rozpaczliwie szukając Ciebie

 

 

Brak mi już cierpliwości


Nie wiem jak długo jeszcze

 

 

Będę w stanie

 

 

Chować się za dobrymi

 

 

Manierami

 

 

Na ile przyzwoitości we mnie

 

 

Pozostanie bym

 

Nadal pozostał wśród żywych


=================================================

 

 

 

 

It' so hard to bare

 

 

 

walking to sleep alone

 

 

 

those damn long nights

 

 

cold bed

 

 

empty pillow beside me

 

 

and mornig whitout shadow of warmth


 

 

when I have to get up

 

 

I seek for light

 

 

like moth who runs to bulb

 

 

I throw myself on people passing by

 

 

desperately looking for you


 

 

I've got no patience left

 

 

I don't know how long I could

 

 

hide behind

 

 

good manners

 

 

how much do I have

 

 

decency

 

to stay alive






© 2008 Artur
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I like the ending of this poem,

"I don't know how long I could
hide behind
good manners
how much do I have
decency
to stay alive"

It seems to remind me that human beings are just animals who learn decency and our social codes to behave well.

However, to be a good writer or to write a good and proper English, there are some spelling mistakes mate :-)

"mornigs whitout" they should be "morning without"

Every good writer or poet should be responsible on checking and checking their creative writing, again and again, for many times, in order to make their writing perfect to treat their readers well.

Otherwise any creative work would just become a sloppy work even though you have a wonderful idea.


Posted 2 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.





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