Somber Nights

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Somber Nights

Somber nights
Winter weather
In a springtime endeavor
Choosing my battles, losing my fights
Seeking ingenuity
Eagerly, but without clarity
The resources are at my disposal
Procrastination is deft of arousal
Thoughts pouring in
Only ten fingers
Trying to find number eleven
But the golden idea lingers
Afoot an intricate design
Why do I wait?
Where’s the sign?
Longing to become great
I waste my precious time
Looking for words that rhyme
I should be creating art
Instead of dwelling on a forgotten past
Perhaps then I’ll have a start
The chances are bleak, and the fortunes are vast

Written by Mensur Gjonbalaj
March 25, 2013

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