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During the day I run, From my thoughts, From my worries, From my fears. But once the night has come, There is no escaping My thoughts, My worries, My fears. They haunt me, They trap me, They taunt me. They remind me, That my parents, That my grandparents, That my sisters, Are not going to live forever. They don’t let me forget Of the people I have hurt, And of the people who have hurt me. They whisper into my ear All the terrible things happening in this world They are relentless. The only escape Is sleep. Sleep, my rescuer, My white knight, My salvation.   But sleep never seems to come save me. And I’m tired of waiting. So, I sit here, And I write this poem. As a way to stall, If only for a moment, From this never ending night
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Feb 12, 2019
Feb 12, 2019 at 10:04 AM UTC
I’m a Morning Person
During the day I run, From my thoughts, From my worries, From my fears. But once the night has come, There is no escaping My thoughts, My worries, My fears. They haunt me, They trap me, They taunt me. They remind me, That my parents, That my grandparents, That my sisters, Are not going to live forever. They don’t let me forget Of the people I have hurt, And of the people who have hurt me. They whisper into my ear All the terrible things happening in this world They are relentless. The only escape Is sleep. Sleep, my rescuer, My white knight, My salvation.   But sleep never seems to come save me. And I’m tired of waiting. So, I sit here, And I write this poem. As a way to stall, If only for a moment, From this never ending night
This poem is about my experience with the night, and how it can bring out all of my worst fears, thoughts, worry’s, etc.
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Feb 12, 2019
Feb 12, 2019 at 10:04 AM UTC
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