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Three Thirty

Memoirs of an Eccentric Man

By Antony KingPublished 5 years ago 1 min read
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Three thirty isn’t so bad

When there is someone next to you

Someone that cares

Or, at least asks… Why you are up?

Are you ok?

Or… Do you need anything.

Three thirty isn’t for the faint of heart.

It’s the time of day when things happen.

Doors get pried open…

You are suddenly awakened by a noise.

A creak… or something out of the ordinary.

In the distance I hear a dog

Barking…

Probably waking others.

Good. At least I’m not the only one.

I light a cigarette…

I watch the tip glowing

Mesmerized by the red fire

Consuming the leaves rolled in this tiny stick.

In peering out the window

I see the dim light from the bar down the street

I hear faint sounds of laughter

The bar is closing…

Drunken laughter of happy people.

Shit… who the hell can be happy at this hour…

I laugh to myself… Drunks… that’s who.

I wish I could be happy.

But it’s three thirty in the morning…

Are they really happy?

Or, just too drunk to know.

Stupid bastards… they should be home

Sleeping, making love…

Watching a late-night show and embracing life.

But… It’s three thirty in the morning…

I’m wide awake

But, what the hell do I know.

Antony king 2018

performance poetry
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About the Creator

Antony King

Antony King, a published poet from Eastern Kentucky. His work can be found in SpillWords, Rye Whiskey Review, and piker press to name a few. His books are available at B&N.com and Amazon.com

https://www.facebook.com/ADarkerSideOfPoetry/

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