Time goes so slow when waiting for the dawn.
These early mornings that ****** me from my
haven that is unconsciousness.
Where nothing can touch me, gnaw at me,
remind me that all is not well.
These uninvited guests that thrive in the darkness,
they **** and poke around in my mind,
  Evoking all my negativity, my grief, my pain.
They remind me of where I am now,
and of where I used to be.
Delivering each morn the same shock again and again.
They cling to this darkness like squatters, refusing to leave.
I wait for the morning light, for sunrise, for respite.

They're just lips,
They're just teeth.
But when she smiles...

I have a next door neighbor who's always short of cash
This neighbour is aware I have a little stash
Every second friday I await his usual knock
A three day loan of twenty pounds at exactly 10 oclock.

This has become a habit, these loans to my friend Jack
I do not mind him asking as he always pays me back
He needs some gas and electric, it's not good to go without
That and more dubious substances, of that I have no doubt

But then it got me wondering, this money I do lend
Cash in perpetual motion, seems like it will never end
To and fro and back and forth for all eternity
Am I the one who lends to him, or does he lend it to me?

Is it selfish to make people happy
if it makes me feel good?
Am i doing it for them,
or am i doing it for me?
If i feel deep joy at other peoples pain,
but i help them anyway,
would that make me a good person?

A new day.
The world is my oyster.
Places to visit.
People to meet.

Endless opportunities.
None taken.
Now sleep.

Repeat.