I wake in my semi-lit bedroom

And it’s three forty-eight A.M.

For a brief second, I feel guilty

Questioning how rude of me

To expect a lamp to serve sentry

Without me so much as asking

As quickly as it came, guilt left

Now I’m back being thoughtless

While undecided if I wish to sleep

Or get up to meander ignorantly

In hopes, I’ll stumble into a use       

Ten minutes elapsed somehow

My greatest achievement for now

Moving from my bed… to blending


Poet of the Light © 2023

Photo by EYu00dcP BELEN on


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