Nightingale

A lost poem

I’m haunted in my dreams
By memories of what used to be
And I must let it go, set myself free
Of a grief that is not mine to keep

I’m desperate for a flash
A break that’ll last
Keep me in
Where the nightingale sings

Running is imminent
If you’re running from what’s indolent
I’m scared of confessing
Why my words have never felt less than

Am I going on a rampage?
Slurring names when I’m not wanted up on the stage
Have my feet dragged me
Upon someone’s land?
Where ashes quickly run like sand

Forgive my sore sentences
As I blur reality and pretences
Spending my last coin
Like a beggar wishing for spring

Keep me in
Where the nightingale sings

Smith