Forgotten
A Poem Written In The Wee Hours Of The Night
you’ve worked tirelessly through the day
giving every precious ounce away
but your mind seeks another foray
don’t go easy into the night you hear it say
drooping with exhaustion, you surmise
does this make me foolish or wise?
why on earth do i want to disguise
my pain, my reluctance, my sighs
a war within you begins waging
a place of rest your body is seeking
but, a matter to reflect, your mind is foraging
a truce is declared, now that you’re up and writing
at that moment, that precious moment
exhaustion gives way to a sense of fulfillment
even the pain pushes you ahead in agreement
the passion for your purpose is now vehement
all consumed now, you’re battling the night
words flowing like the birds of flight
moving the mountains with all their might
the darkness outside cannot fathom your light
