Midnight


Writing this at 12 midnight.
What is it about today that made me up until now?
I sit beside the best thing in my life.
Wondering what life will I give him if I do without.

Tonight, I cried, again, like the other night.
As I hope for life, I deprive him of an ordinary life.
Tell me, is it too much to ask?
For all the bad things and the wrong ones, can I still make them right?

Thoughts flowing.
Dreams following.
Answers wandering.
Yet with me.
Yet now.
Or will it ever be?

Here comes sleep.
And the day ended, again, just like that.


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