Love Poem: Sunday

Sunday

Sunday



Happy Sunday, said a lady, the telephone switched on.

Lady, far, but here, she lives in London, me too, alone.

Distance given, we will never meet, friendship leaves 

                                                                                Gone.



My life is weekdays. I have no weekend, never. No off

Sunday is empty, Saturday is empty, the bench is empty, off

No problem. I need only a touch from a woman's hand

                                                                                Gone.



No life, it’s not exists, everything is an illusion, reality on and off.

An English woman ruined my life, my soul is faraway, gone.

God, please give me a good chance. I need a woman

                                                                Romance is gone.



Reality


February 04, 2024