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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2207104
Rated: E · Poetry · Adult · #2207104
I am the biggest insomniac, so I’m convinced. I hate busy day life. I am the night.
The night and I are still before the storm.
The morning comes with foul reminder
And melts away the solitude I walk
My peace of mind resides within a cave
In breaking dawn I lose my sight of life
Remind and wake the other me the fake
My clock is forced to start again and again
What’s real, they say, is no more real to me
The shadows call me back to lurk and plot
The darkness nurtures and envelops me
No one to break the incubating silence
That warms my creativity to sing
In retrospect I get to see my life
Where quiet helps me wane my aching past
So that my apparitions ease their grasp
Between reality and thought I raft
Should scorch of day consume what-my twilight hath
The bright and jagged road might end at last
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2207104