It is Dawn,
Blue with a tint of white; the horizon lit with a beautiful pink.
It's not dark but the lamps are on;
Changing from a burning orange to a bright milky white.
The process is slow or is it just me who’s lost in time?

It is Dark,
3, 4, 5 I count my cigarette ends.
What is it? I ask myself;
Silence again is what I get.

It's a phase, I tell myself.
Morning would be a better one.
Im up again and feel the same.
Something I missed or something lost.
What is it? I ask myself…..

The sun is high, above my head.
5, 6, 7 and I count again.
Is it something or my head?

Vision blurred and crowds move slow.
Voices muffled and I hear not much.
Palms sweaty, I feel jittery.
I feel so hollow and lost within
I want to write but lost again………