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It’s a quarter to three..
No, no, no!
It’s four in the morning, the end of December..
No, no, no!
Life is a song, you came along…

Sigh .

Thump
Thump
Thump
I kick the back of the seat
Like a child.
Not really.
But in my mind
I’m starting to rock back and forth.
Sort of,
Not really.
But want to.

I’m all alone in this!
Nobody feels the way
I do!
Well that isn’t exactly
True
Now is it?

Such a familiar tune.
I wonder what I can worry about
Now?

It’s 2am
Why not think about the thank you notes you never wrote
As a child?
Since you’ve got a theme going.

Bogart in Casablanca:
“There are certain sections of New York City, Major, I wouldn’t advise you to try and invade.”
Would be worse for the Taliban to come across MS-13, or some of those
Mavericks in the Appalachia.

No, no – yes it works!

But let’s get back to torturing yourself,
That’s so much more fun!

A lost loves voice echoing across
The ocean.
Words you are sure you’ve misunderstood and want to
Rectify
At three in the morning,
Not at noon.

Oh hell, roll over and count sheep…rainbow colored sheep..

If it isn’t the neighbors cat, sirens of the
City,
Sciatica, booze or allergies,
Something can always wake you so make
The waking dream
A
Good
One

That other stuff solves
Nothing.

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