I pulled my hand out of your grip
moved to the edge of the bed
turned away from you
hid under a shell of stone
You’ve done everything you could
Now I can only beg for another night
© W. Donovan
Make your life a poem.
I pulled my hand out of your grip
moved to the edge of the bed
turned away from you
hid under a shell of stone
You’ve done everything you could
Now I can only beg for another night
© W. Donovan
If you think you’ll stop me
from leaving the house
you’re so wrong.
Know that this is the end
I won’t hide anymore
I won’t immerse myself in sadness.
You won’t stand on my way
to happiness and fulfillment.
I’m sorry, but you’ve lost.
© W. Donovan
The bench
I miss you
your cheerful face
your wise eyes.
I miss you
our spontaneous trips
our conversations.
I miss it
that I felt good
when I was with you.
I miss it
how you treated me,
when I was with you.
I miss you
but it doesn’t mean that
I want you to come back.
I miss you
but it doesn’t mean that
I want you to be here.
I miss you
but it doesn’t mean that
I want to talk to you
again.
© W. Donovan
Today might be the day
It seems like a whole eternity has passed
It might be today
I’m so tired now
If only you could stop for a moment
Wander and sing in silence
So that only heaven knows what you say
If you could jump into the water
Icy to the bone, it would tell you
If only you could hear the wind’s whisper
You would know what you want the most
If you could watch and see
Everything would be so much more beautiful
Now I’m just waiting for the day
When it all starts
It might be today
© W. Donovan
I’ve been looking…
Looking for a better way to live my life.
But I haven’t found anything yet,
except a few old books
except a dusty piano,
which plays the tragedy of my life.
Every day.
© W. Donovan
I drew you
on a piece of paper.
I wanted you
to be the way
I wanted to see you.
I felt disappointed
when it turned out
that you were somebody else.
Not the one drawn
on a piece of paper.
© W. Donovan