its Four A.M. again.
I’m tired but sleepless I lay
and the rain pours down
knocking on my window pane
bringing company
and a shared experience
to the tears on my cheeks.
ushering in the fall
It ushers in a change
death
and dormancy
of all that could be and should be lively
and was…through summers’ final days.
it’s 4 am again
an I lay alone
the rain mocking me with
a pitter patter of drops on my window.
The cars drive through puddles,
splashing on the walk outside.
Surely they have somewhere to be
a home to get to, or to leave
after all it is Monday morning.
These tears of heaven are loud
yet somehow peaceful.
I wish I could say the same of my soul
and the tears that lay on my cheek,
or have dried upon my pillow.
There is no peace inside
Can it only be found,
looking through a single pane window
out into the darkness?
Listening to the rain tap on my window?

It’s too late to sleep again, yet too early for me to wake.
This confusion and pain carry no concept of time
And I’m just too tired to think.
It’s 4 am again.