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MIDNIGHT CONVERSATION

My occasional friend
I’m back again
With more tears this time
I’m sure it’s no crime

I do hate myself
I’m on the lowest shelf
I’ve lost my way
Stuck deep in quick clay

My mornings seem to come
With no dew or song
I dare not expect some
I guess that will be wrong

Should I undo my veil of lies?
I wonder; do I even try?
I must wash out my messy brain
And pour my filthy heart down the drain

See, You offer me meat
You wonder why I’m still starving?
…Well, one by one, I pulled out my teeth
So how do I do the chewing?

Oh my bleeding King, why do you keep watch?
My forgotten love, why do you give so much?
My precious LORD… you’re still my sun
So why do I take up this world and run?

About This Poem

Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Region, Country: Accra/Ghana/West Africa, GHA

Favorite Poets: Wilfred Owen, Claude Mckay, W. H. Auden, John Donne, Shakespeare!

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