Things to Say

Things to say,
Things to do,
Too many things,
To say to you.

I know not,
The words to use,
All these things,
I’m so confused.

My mind is full,
I’ve much to say,
With you to share,
Some other day.

Not today,
Not even tomorrow,
These things to say,
Bring too much sorrow.

So allow me peace,
Allow me rest,
Push me not,
I’ll be depressed.

Though not to the point,
That I’ll wish to die,
Just enough,
That I will cry.

This I know,
You do not desire,
Urge me not,
To my death fire.

This would be bad,
It need not be said,
So go on your way,
And rest your head.

May sweet dreams reach you,
On this December night,
May you sleep well,
Until morning’s light.

A/N: I can't remember the reason I wrote this poem... I obviously had something to tell my parents, I know that, but I can't recall what I wanted to tell them... wasn't an anti-driving thing... :shrugs: ah well... forever lost in my jumbled memories...