Anger without enthusiasm

I'll get up tomorrow in the dull forenoon,
With a tedious job I'll occupy myself,
Unexcitable thoughts I'll slowly set loose
From my worn out utterly inner self .

I don't need a mirror called Lao's
To accept black smudges under my eyes,
Bitter lines around the mouth,
Shoulders, held notably tight.

When did my head go gray-haired?
It is too painful to harp on the past,
Indeed, it was at the age of eight-
Today it provides a cover for dust.

"Hold out your hand, take the tablets-
The night itself brings such a fear"
The voice drones on, I'll even double it,
For all my worries to disappear.


Рецензии
Пишется вроде как "loose".
Желаю поменьше переживать...

С уважением,

Андрей Чекмарев   16.12.2015 14:40     Заявить о нарушении
Because that's not writing- that's typing.

С благодарностью. Ксения.

Ксения Желева   16.12.2015 16:00   Заявить о нарушении
*
I had not a slightest doubt
it had happened due to that.
And your poem was about
very good. It was not bad...
*

Андрей Чекмарев   16.12.2015 16:11   Заявить о нарушении
На это произведение написаны 4 рецензии, здесь отображается последняя, остальные - в полном списке.