Clocks ticking.
Time is moving.
I am sleepy.
But I am thinking.

What of my mistakes?
Numerous like a heap of sand.
In the desert. It takes,
Those impulsive conjecture.
Or non-impulsive.

I guess I’m trying to be cool.
It ends up being cold.
Tearing up.
I wish.
I shouldn’t, have written.
That part.

I’m keeping.
Put it in an hourglass.
And capturing, it.

Deep in my heart.
I’m sorry.
I kept you awake.


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