382. Insomniac

795750-bokeh-books-empty-lights-man-made-night-notebook-pages-wind

11pm, it’s late again.

Time to close your eyes.

No moon in sight to make it light,

Darkness descends and lies.

12am, two hours past ten.

Another day is gone.

You stare at nothing, yet everything,

While deciding which side to rest on.

1am, the hour when…

Your thoughts decide to party:

Dance and drink, and overthink…

Rage and disagree.

2am, you grab a pen,

To silence the noise inside;

Write it out, reread, and doubt…

Which words you should confide.

3am, you drop the pen,

Too tired to think clearly.

There are no words that aren’t cowards,

And cowardice costs dearly.

4am, near dawn again.

The world will soon awake,

And you will stare, lost in despair,

Of the sun you will forsake.

5am, You lie and then…

Fall down deeply into sleep.

Finally at rest, yes, you sleep best,

After you ponder and weep.

K. Aldaya, 1/16/17

Picture:  https://www.walldevil.com/13623-bokeh-books-empty-lights-manmade-night-notebook-pages-wind.html

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One thought on “382. Insomniac

  1. Ah yes, the hours before dawn when you write until the pen falls from your fingers. The next day you wonder what precious words of wisdom you had put down. And once in a while, the words turn out to be most precious.

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