Four In the Morning

Four in the morning

Can’t sleep for the thoughts

And regrets and emotions

And possibilities that swim

Through the deepest corners

Of my drowsy mind

Four in the morning

Haven’t closed my eyes

Haven’t turning off the light

For darkness breeds

The blackest things

Monsters with fangs

Made of broken dreams

Four in the morning

Tried humming but the lyrics

Fall short of combating silence

That blankets my lungs

In cloth made of quiet

Four in the morning

Counting the minutes

Drawing nearer to when

My alarm will ring

Waking those who find

Sleep comes like an old lover

I’m always the last awake

Sleepily roaming halls

Four in the morning

Oppressive worries keep me up

Way past delirium

And almost until

Five in the morning

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2 thoughts on “Four In the Morning

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