Thursday, 11 April 2013

The Call

I walk downstairs
Into the pitch darkness,
Fumbling for the switch
To let in some brightness.

So begins my day
That so resembles night.
I flutter, flit and fly
Like a moth in search of light.

I pour coffee down my throat,
Trying to jump-start my brain
Like pouring down liquid Drano
To unclog a stubborn drain.

A cold shower jolts me
From my suspended animation
But still I fight to hold back
Sleep's sweet, sweet machinations.

I amble through the city,
Miles away from the dawn
Into a life of conversations
That leave me feeling more alone. 


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