When Dreams Fade: a short poem
art & poetry by brian loewer
When dreams fade the page is still.
My elbows propped on window sills.
The city shrills inside my room.
I can sense its slightest gloom.
The street lights scoff my unpaid bills,
as I fill my hands and take my pills.
The calm will come but darkness waits,
outside my brain it taps and shakes.
It breaks in past these led-framed panes,
while the rain seeps through the cellophane.
I daze, with drugs life's a dream,
but when I'm clean I want to scream!
So I sit and write my will,
in my room unfurnished still.
I jot down all I have
with a pencil and a pad.
I give you all I own-
I give you just this poem.