The passion burns through my chest,
to write, to stay up till sun up,
without needed rest,
i don't see the sun rise often,
not many appreciate, its beauty,
forgotten,

A fast food breakfast,
the hot cakes with the sweet maple,
we feast, because the hours before we usually wake up,
is the only time it's available,

Now the sun is high,
and a deep sleep is near.
i wake up in the evening,
with thoughts unclear,
unsure on how to spend my night,
sit on the street by my lonesome
and watch the cars go by,