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Rating: 5.0
I write in the dark
After I've turned out the light
When the fan blades are wild
And the crickets come to life

I have to decide

Which poems I must let slide
If I stay up to write
I might never rest at night
For they flock to me like flies
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Sunday, February 10, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: sleep,writing
Richard D Remler 12 February 2019
yup, I can relate. that's usually when inspiration floods the page. Been that way since forever. a Nightowl here too. Great penning. Loved it.
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Mayuri K 12 February 2019
Ironically this came to me in the middle of the night too. Thank you!
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Kostas Lagos 10 February 2019
In the middle of the night inspiration awakes! Well written
1 0 Reply
Mayuri K 10 February 2019
Thank you. Always when it's inconvenient! !
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