Broken Days

In broken days, and sleepless nights
greeting the dawn with sleep filled eyes
This pen sometimes feels heavy as a shackle
yet I could no sooner stop breathing
than be placing careful words upon this page

Virgin pages filled with obscure random words
as my mind is unleashed upon the unsuspecting
Just one more page, I promise and I will sleep
to awaken with phrases, verses, and maybe rhymes
as the sun comes up, and the coffee is perfect

Stoic Poetry

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