In the middle of the night
You see nothing
As the darkness fills
Every corner of your eyes
As you lift your head's up
Billion of stars shines
Like what you've wished for
Closing your eyes
Cherishing every moment
Before it vanishes in your mind
Before things you wished
Wouldn't happen
And gives regrets
For the rest of your life.

Poems aren't written,
they're found,
Somewhere in your head the words are waiting,
They're sprawled across the floor,
You just need to pick them up,
Make a path with them,
Let your path guide observers,
And if you can't write,
Walk down somebody's else's path first,

No poetry today.
No words for the despair.
No calming the fears.
No poetry today.