12 AM

12 AM. 

My eyes fall involuntarily

Like having

A mind

Of their own.

Is this real?

Or do I dream

Holding this glass of wine


Into the white wall

Where the Chandalier's lights

Bounces.  The shadows


Their Masters,

Like children

In school

During recess.

That one hour of freedom

While the hours on my pillow;

The sun finds comfort with the clouds.


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