Call me, The Midnight Poetess.
My eyes are droopy.
My brain a little loopy.
I’m so tired,
I am in a fog.
I am so out of it I can’t tell what is real and what’s not.
This is the life I live.
Awake at night.
Sleeping all day.
Maybe, one day I walk in the light of day, like the rest.
Until then I will live the life of the night shift.
I’ve always been a night owl.
Staying up late writing and reading,
while the rest of the world is sleeping.
In the wee hours of the mornings that is often when I feel most inspired.
I’ve written some of my best work in the dark.
It’s something about the solitude of darkness brings out my heart.
Manifests, itself into poetry.
Must be something about the moon and stars that bring out my poetic side.
Either way, it will never be something I hide.
Call me the midnight poetess.
I am always writing and never want to rest.
I will continue to write.
I will never stop. I will do my best.
Great Angela?
Often a poet gets creative ideas during the dead of night when the whole world is asleep. I agree with you. nice poem..