At the dead of the night,
My mind filled up with insight,
Wanted to express what I felt inside,
Writing down what my conscience swept aside,
Feeling the emptiness in the air,
Tranquility came as it was fair,
Deep inside I wanted to rest,
But my thoughts won't stop giving me their best,
They say it's bad to keep on thinking,
But how can I stop a light bulb that keeps on blinking,
Reminiscing about the past is how I waste my time,
I wish to tell but upon opening my mouth I start to mime,
These emotions accumulate making me a ticking time bomb,
At times like these how I wish to be a child in my mothers womb,
Expressing myself isn't something I'd do on my own accord,
Rather something I must before I am overwhelmed and set to erode.
