~ Poetry by me ~
For food and laughter I long ceased to care.
My company are the verses I would write.
I grasp at beauty as at empty air
and sacrifice another sleepless night.
To serve you as a skald is sweet and rough.
Your gift of madness rages in my breast.
Now verses pour, but are they good enough?
At last I faint to sleep but find no rest.
I wonder if you care, or even knew.
In fitful dreams I catch a glimpse of you.
© 2005 Michaela
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