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The Lonely Hour

A Poem.

By Steven BaldryPublished 7 years ago 1 min read
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Another night I lay awake staring at the flames...

My mind too active to sleep my memories the chains.

That bind me to this repetition of insomnia I face.

Where all peace and comfort disappears without a trace.

In the lonely hours that are mine the silence is so loud.

I speak my truth unashamed although I am not proud.

My mind is so alive fuelled by my heart and its endless questions.

I cannot find relief within my sincerest intentions.

As I hear a car pass outside my window I am aware I am not alone.

A bed can seem such a huge, cold and empty space when you are on your own.

When all you want is Someone there to hold onto and tell you it's alright.

A hand to hold in the darkness that comforts you until morning light.

What is about the lonely hour that holds such a frightful power?

Where the innocence fades under the downpour of fears relentless shower.

If I dream it, will it be a dream from which I swiftly stir?

For the nightmare always returns of what we never really were.

The candle slowly flickers now and out goes the light.

I hear a voice whisper softly “Sweet dreams darlin, goodnight...”

I’m aware this is a vision of my tired fantasy so I rub my eyes, I begin to write...

Of my endless thoughts and feelings in the hope I’ll sleep tonight.

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About the Creator

Steven Baldry

I have been writing Poetry since I was a teenager. Now in my late thirties I enjoy it more than ever. I find it a wonderful release and it helps me to free my mind and understand myself and my emotions.

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