Midnight Tomorrow

So soon,
11 will be 12-
Full moon
Is looking down the city,
Its light can’t help
The loneliness,
Its overwhelming pity
Of regret.
Such emptiness
Is filling to the brim
You can’t forget.
The shadows
Are cast.
They stretch the skies,
Creating poetry of night:
Forgotten past,
The gallows,
The sorrow in your eyes
You can’t deny.
So, go on:
Disrupt the night.
Stand up and sing
Your heart with thoughts
That hurt the most.
You have to carry on.
And all’s alright.
Remember: not a thing
Is better than you’ve got –
You’ll learn its cost.

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Writer’s Struggle

with all these paragraphs, it’s hard to choose a title,
among the stream of information in my head.
there’s so much more my memory is hiding –
the thoughts will only stop when I’m dead.
while trying to avoid the real calling,
creating something for someone and not myself,
I didn’t think this life was so lonely,
and I don’t want this loneliness to dwell.
to break the barriers, I must continue writing,
creating, making things with no regret.
this is my way of modern, peaceful fighting,
which makes me more alive, before I’m dead.