3 am and the moon hung low
staring at me like a sleepy eye
chiding me.
whatever happened to promises made
beneath its borrowed light?
gone, it seems, with dawn.
kisses shared fade
seems not even a memory
is left behind.
330 and the moon hangs even lower
i stare at it, mulling over this constant reminder
dare i turn my back on the moon
and forget?
will i be free when it sinks below the horizon
leaving the sky in darkness for that brief moment
before the sun intrudes?
will i ever forget?
or will the moonrise and moonset plague me
night after night after night,
filling my head with vivid pictures
that leave me doubled up in pain imagined
yet real.
4 am and the sky turns black
i breathe easy
i feel drowsy
my last thought is a plea
for cloudy skies.
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