literature

Insomniac Poetry

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paintstains's avatar
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Literature Text

By the light of my phone,
In the deadest of dark
I sit by myself
And spill out my heart

The sky hangs in silence
And birds cease to fly
But my mind is awake
And these rhymes never die

The windsongs are muted
And everyone is asleep
But words run wild
And thoughts run deep

The world lays still
In a spell of slumber
But I cannot resist
Without light, without cumber

Everything is so peaceful,
I simply cannot refuse
Thinking and storming
Sleep will never ensue
All my ideas come when I'm trying to sleep. Very annoying. I have to get up and write them down. =.=
© 2009 - 2024 paintstains
Comments12
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GracefulWings's avatar
I hear ya! I was up last night writing and sketching with a crayon at 2am.

See, what you've got to do is keep a journal and pen/mechanical pencil in every room of the house (including the bathroom). Then hopefully it will come out before bed, and then when that doesn't work (because you know it won't) you don't injure yourself too badly fumbling around in the dark. Except obviously one way or another it will all disappear when you need it and you'll end up with a sticky note and broken crayon, 'cause that's just the way it always ends up!