A second sunrise comes with no sleep inbetween
The beginning of days aren't beginnings to me
Whether daylight or darkness it all seems the same
I wake up with dread just to drift off with pain
The clock ticks and tocks with no story to tell
Midnight or noon, it's all just as well
Sleep comes in short hours when I'm lucky
These blended numbers have no value to me
YOU ARE READING
Quiver
Poetrya place where I've written my feelings when I felt them. it has become a story of depression and recovery, love and loss, hope and fear, and everything in-between. mostly poetry, sometimes stories. :)
