and it ends

the time in between 

the night and day 

when the sun gets tired 

and the moon wakes 

i sit and stare 

what will i dream of

when i tire? 

maybe it will be 

the time we got lost

and couldn't find our way 

back home in the 

warmth 

or maybe 

it will be the 

same dream i have every 

night 

when i fight 

the hoards off with 

a single smile and

it ends 

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741