It’s that 2 am thing,
a full circle dream,
I once wondered about words
whether fatal or absurd,
how does the mind react
to some sort of despairing act
of response,
reaction, in such a staunch
society so set upon rigidity.
I can play with rhyme
throughout the twilight
into another day,
and yet
2 am
the pangs of loneliness
remain,
for what, for why,
there is no one to answer anyone
in a cry,
when the immediacy of
a longing,
seems miles away,
a silence
we might wish
never imagined.
© Scott F Savage 2019
apersonaljourney - stories of love 