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Paper Fountain
There are words which are lost,
the ones hard to say.
A sentence not found,
in the cool light of day.
The 2 am queries,
those rambled-on theories,
that keep me awake
when I'm losing my way.
Blurring the lines
between ordeals of my mind
and the mountain I climb,
on which you used to reside.
The 3 am questions,
that leave me to guessing
the truth or intention
which led to detention.
I need sleep and a new year
to conquer that fear.
The one of who you really are to me.
© Eli Tudor
the ones hard to say.
A sentence not found,
in the cool light of day.
The 2 am queries,
those rambled-on theories,
that keep me awake
when I'm losing my way.
Blurring the lines
between ordeals of my mind
and the mountain I climb,
on which you used to reside.
The 3 am questions,
that leave me to guessing
the truth or intention
which led to detention.
I need sleep and a new year
to conquer that fear.
The one of who you really are to me.
© Eli Tudor
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