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Richwithey

Rich Withey

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It’s half past four and my work is done
So I stare into the gardens moonlight glow
This time of night

So peaceful

A magical time

I feel as though the witching hour and beyond belongs to me
I own this time
My mascara stained eyes stare into the twilight
While my lips, caked in black lipstick, craves for Bourbon
I become one with this dusky time

A time of solace

A time when I am so together

Unhinged by nothing
A time when people are unhinged by me
I don’t know why
As I grow confident people die mentally
Do they die for me?
Or build up a resistance when I toy?

The darkness is my calling
But that doesn’t mean I dwell on the dark side of life
But maybe so
Time will tell

Time tells all the stories

Time makes us famous
If only in memories
Someone’s personal recollections
Reminiscing with friends
Telling tales of great companionship
Like I do now
While I stare into the gardens moonlight glow
Remembering for a time
Until the golden sparks of sunrise
Make me a slave to slumber
And I close my night-stained eyes

…and rest