the insomniac.

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  • Sadness

    the insomniac.

    moving on:
    it's getting late.
    the hours waxing, the minutes waning.
    and all i said a day ago
    for what it's worth, i'm just complaining.
    all spelled out
    but harder to read.
    my mind is foggy, vision blurred
    problem solved
    advice unheard.
    a moment's notice
    show and tell
    nothing here that you can see
    don't even try
    it's not real, it's not just me.
    it's 2 am, you're waking up
    half the world away
    i love the forest for the leaves
    on the ground
    not in the trees.

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    Poetry is what is lost in translation.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    modernpansy’s Poems (3)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    the sponge. 1
    the insomniac. 0
    nobody. 3