Midnight

When
days are over
and nights descend
like petals of black,

the
world has an
array of lights
through the moon
and countless stars.

When
this only hour
is a moment to
articulate the silence,

it
will break, it
will break too soon
and I can’t be here

with
the only solitude
that happens when
everyone is gone,

I
cannot be the
laughter, but the
cry that sleeps on my bed.

 

2016

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About chester maynes

poet, and a lover of music and books.
This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Midnight

  1. penulismalas says:

    I love those words in the last paragraph x

  2. ksbeth says:

    beautiful and sad –

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