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.
Write Now and Later 
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