There is a certain freedom
to this isolation.
knowing that as I write this
at four in the morning
that there isn't a single person
thinking about me.
I think of them all
during these cigarettes,
one more than the others,
but they become mine
between drags
and sips.
I can tell that they don't know
when I see their faces,
but I own them
during times like these,
and
It's enough
to get me to tomorrow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Interesting concept, never thought of early morning hours in this light! Great write! Thank you for sharing. RoseAnn