Waffle still writes poetry

By In Uncategorized

Trillions of dots, for me to connect
Connecting these dots causes me to reflect
These reflections, they make me look in retrospect
Funny how these glowing dots, tend to keep me in check

So I run my finger through the cold night air
In between these dots: nothingness, emptiness…bare
But from this earth I sit on this gray concrete stair
I only see beauty in the night sky up there

My eyes on the sky, I keep staring… no blinks
My finger dipped in the air's invisible ink,
and draw translucent lines on my nighttime canvas, I think:
"The blackness of space," and my lids start to sink

Awoken to red sunrise, the blackness is gone
only pink exists in my sky…"this is wrong"
"My nighttime canvas was stolen," I yawn
at least until tonight, glowing dots…

"so long…"

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