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2 AM Morning : Haunted Thoughts

I hear a howl Look out the window Find a shadow that calls Close my eyes shut Stay steady Breathing heavy.. Trying to flee while the howling haunts Gathered courage Starting to walk into the dark Where all things except you talk It's like the trees are staring down And the roads push you backwards So no matter how much forward you go You find yourself back at the same place Am I even walking right ? Your heart beats louder than the noiseless night Some car screeches at the background Echoing through the vacuum Is someone hurt ? There are looks in the dark That only books have spoken about There are looks behind you That only sniffing can rat you out The thought of being followed The thought of seeing the shadow of someone you don't want to.. Keep looking Don't be afraid Says the mind While your heart keeps saying Go home, and stay blind throughout the rest of tonight.. Speak to no one until asked Coz weak is never alone to be tasked The door closes on you Wondering why it c

The Pen That Wrote

The pen that wrote something

about a girl who fell in love

while swinging alone

as she flew to the top

cracking laughter to her bone


The pen that was impolite

as it wrote something 

about a night

as unfortunate fight

just lost the hindsight

of a woman

struggling to sleep right after


The pen that wrote something

about a traveler

that runs into a dark cave

and encounters a monster

that digs deep into her eyes

finding the real meaning 

behind her wandering rave


The pen that broke in anger

when it tried to write 

what it does not

want to

but wants to tell the story that people

should listen to..


The pen that draws a dagger

while it tears apart

the hands that write

a merciless

encounter with a little girl

that goes out of sight

as she mentions 

she has no right

nor can fight

as she wants food for hunger


The pen that saw

a bloody massacre 

as guns were fired

without reason

taking away shelters

scaring away humanity

bitter assassins 

empty civilians 

and a road that never

opened to freedom



*Dedicated to real journalism

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