Sweet Goodnight

He never says goodnight

Nor asks if I’m all right

He always mumbles

And gives me troubles



I say we lack imagination

He says that’s mind’s creation

My mind can’t be eased

And my body can’t be pleased

My trip to death

My trip to death
Will it be full of joy
Or full of misery
Is it my choice?

Will I be the hero
Or the walk-on
Will the curtains fall
With me alone?