Poem #217

I always have to stay up late
when I need to write.
The night is dark, mysterious and
intimidating just like my demons
so when the sun isn’t out they
come out and play a game of
words with my hands.

9 replies on “Poem #217”

Totally agreed. Poetry cannot be written in broad daylight. Twilight will do for a first draft. By midnight I’m warmed up but if it’s not finished before dawn, it just turns out too hopeful and that doesn’t do anybody any good.

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