poetry, writing

1:47 am

Eyes wide open in the darkest of night.

Double tap of the wrist. 1:47 am.

Looking around, everything is alright.

That one is snoring, look at him…

While I lay here with thoughts running…

Of course, among them, is one of you.

It isn’t naughty nor is it too cunning,

But I wonder to myself, are you up too?

I grin and fluff my pillow, then rest my head.

Hopefully sleep will soon return to me in bed.

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