Box Number
My last few weeks have quietly been 
taken by a rising tension, 
shielding me from relaxation, 
stealing sleep from weekend days.
 
A lover lost, which seems to feed 
my insecure apprehension. 
A new job, where, to settle in some 
is beyond my working haze.
 
I’m 28, a bloke whose seen 
less of love’s dreamt attention 
than belongs to male pretension. 
I need to catch a woman’s gaze.
 
 | 
 
  
arts & ego 
products 
RSS 
© & licence
 
poems
sequence 
subject 
title 
year
 
media
  
hear
  
 |