Its to late to be called night...yet, to early to be morning. I cant sleep so I'll watch the sunrise. Just the other day i saw your face, and even that seems like forever ago.
I think of you and what your doing. Are your eyes closed? Do you dream when i Cannot? The sun and moon both taunt me in my restless nights, I'm cold ...so cold, and i need your warmth.
The day is breaking so fast now, and sunlight is pouring from the hills...So why is it I find no peace beneath this checkerboard sky?
Is it because the night has forgotten me?.....
Or is it time to die?














Comments
I was thinking of asking to join me in a writing tournament but...your stuff is more poetry than prose!
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"What is not the thing that is is that which is no longer relevant."
"Beware the power of custard!"
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The Sharpest Lives are the Deadliest to Lead
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