Its 1:30 am,
Sleep is nowhere to be found.
Every entertainment that is provided in the phone
Are useless.
Talking to strangers used to be my activity at this time,
Talking to strangers used to be my hobby,
Talking to strangers used to fill the empty heart of mine,
Now it is meaningless
You were a stranger when I first met you.
We promised to part as friends,
Why do I feel you're a stranger now?
Maybe talking to strangers is still my hobby
Because of a particular person,
You.
YOU ARE READING
Midnight Thoughts
PoetryWhen the clock strikes 12 AM random thoughts rushes in It could be a reflection of wrongdoings, memories of loved ones, heartaches, happy memories that could make a sad girl giggle, and the list goes on. Can't sleep? Same here.
