Midnight thoughts

Blessed are those, who boast,

Of sound sleep, and dreamless nights,

Of 40 winks, that make to the morn,

Unlike those, that are forlorn.

Those, cursed with treacherous thoughts,

That consume their nights,

Trudging along,

bearing an insurmountable weight,

On dim-lit, deserted paths at midnight..

Of failures that didn’t come with a second chance,

And arguments that remained unresolved,

The ill fated separation of a loved one,

And the void it leaves behind,

And the pain that comes and stabs on the inside,

Until they learn to keep a brave face outside.

The forsaken, awash and desolate,

Know it in their jaded heart,

It’s a tired thing,

The loneliness in being forgotten.