On a Warm Spring Night

tired storms rage in my mind
eyes battered and bruised
by the fists of overworked fury
think the heat of anger is getting to me
anger at what i have created, but refuse to stop
just one more sand and i will call it a night
but one will be five, and five will be ten
at least the bed bugs mouths will shut tight

and my body will be drugged with my caffene infusion
to make that clock tik tok faster
and the sand will fall like rain from the sky
and neon shelved bricks will shine through my windows
nothing but shadows of the sightless remain
and the silence of the air above
will make this lonesome life all harder to take

a strange creek from above gives me a coherent pause
which then slowly wears off into the night
insomniac repetition shuffles through my mind
just one more sand and i will call it a night
but we've all been here before
but forgetfullness comes with such a freight
only to remisice this mess will we remember such bad sights

The End

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