As the sun tickles
My face
My words help me
Place what was misplace
As night comes to a end
So does my poetry untill pm
I hear the birds
But do you think
They heard me
I spent the whole night
Writing my opinions
Does that mean
Im going to bed
With nothing to say
The night was long
And so was my last poem
Was it becasue
I was alone
As i continue to
Debate
about my mental
Writing state
The sun get brighter
And my eyes are
starting to weight
A ton
With my eyes
Fighting to say open
My body's telling my
Mind that its time for poetry
To be done
I strongly refuse
sleep because
I choose to write
until my fingers and eyes
Get sore
Wait they are sore
Ending this poem
With a goodmorning
Until tonight
When Its time to
Write some more
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