January 23, 2018
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Ohh… when the sun makes its final curtain call
A signal tells us all
Young rebels and princesses
Are tucked away with hugs and kisses
But I, in the night, am only waking up inside
When the clock hits six and the sky is tainted with ink
I turn on my computer without a blink
To write the things I love without hesitation
And so with marigolds and silver carnations
I dream of a world with peace and good will
But not without causing such a chill
The stories once blank pieces of digital paper
Now come alive with griffins and capers
It seems as if they just pop off the page
Like daisies on a concrete stage
But one thing’s for certain, that is for sure
When I start writing I’ll always want more.

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