The clock strikes 12,
Signalling its midnight,
There is no light,
Unitl its bright,
So this girl,
Moves around in bed whirling,
Until she decides,
To leave the house,
She leaves as quiet as a mouse,
Until she's far enough,
She take out her phone,
To take a picture,
Of this beautiful sight,
She sees right before her in the night,
She knows this won't last forever,
But she would like it to,
Walking back home,
Whilst roaming,
She makes it back home,
Just to crawl in bed,
For her hair that is red,
Is spread everywhere,
So for the first time in years,
She finally sleeps.
YOU ARE READING
Midnight Thoughts About Myself And Other Things
RandomJust some thoughts I have around midnight because I can't sleep anymore. So what's better than writing a book about it?