We despise the sunset;

the night taunts our sanity.

Twilight beckons our slumber;

we are not ready to sleep.

We seek the sunrise;

the day pretends to matter.

Gusting winds hide our voices;

pouring rain drowns our presence.

Time spent walking,

on the wrong side of the road.

Meaning is a pot of gold

at the end of the mythical rainbow.

Published by David W. Jones

David is a writer and blogger who enjoys creating literary expressions about everyday life. He is a published poet and currently doing reviews, creative writing, and storytelling. David's interests include narrating point-of-view scenarios, documenting non-fiction, and writing scripts for film and television. View all posts by David W. Jones