I Don’t Have A Pen.

I am lying in the dark,
staring straight through the ceiling,
imagining the stars,
above my head that I am feeling.

I glance across the room,
the four walls that entrap me.
I see a guitar un-tuned,
waiting for a moment to smite me.

I see clothes all scattered,
none to me that fit.
I am lost in my thoughts, I feel them shatter,
as under the moonlight I sit.

Just then I feel the breeze,
how I wish if it could be your touch.
I want this moment to freeze,
never changing; not little or much.

I sing to myself aloud,
as I feel a sudden rush of pain.
I experience losing all senses,
but its a different high I gain.

I rewind back my thoughts,
and I hear them all again.
So I grab a blank paper,
but I don’t have a pen..



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