One Wrong Word


In the middle of the night

I should write something




Instead of sleeping

I’ve to wake up soon


Sleep is overrated


C’mon muse

Let’s see what we’ve got


Sleeping I’m not



He decided to stop in at a roadside café / diner, Myas’ Place. But it wasn’t exactly a diner. “All the times I’ve walked by, why haven’t I noticed? How long has it been here? Looks friendly enough… huh, why would I think that? Funny, I feel wide-awake as if it were daytime. Ohhh, that aroma… coffee and cooking, baking, that’s definitely baking, is heavenly.” Was heavenly the wrong word? Slowly he began remembering running into someone, that woman – appealing on all levels, having great conversation with her that seldom happens when he’s in the mood to prowl at night keeping his fingers crossed the next dive will be the one he’ll find a tolerable person he can convince to spend the night. He hurried his step as he tried to remember when he was last there.

Was it a concoction of his imagination? “Can’t be. My imagination isn’t that kind of good.”





Welcome drowsiness

That heaviness weighs


Time to stop


Perhaps now sleep

No more writing


Eyelids heavy


Will continue another day

Not sure I like what I jotted anyway


Where to take it?


That’s the gist

Lids close, mind drifts away


Sleep on this




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