11:11 p.m. the burnt out end of a dreamless day beneath a fragile sky of blue-black shadows swimming a young man makes a wish among these trees thrust from careless ground in silence let me fall among these lonesome leaves without tears or farewells to make a bed for the coming snow let me, at last, belong.
Reason for writing:
I wrote this poem quite a while ago, when I was experiencing a rather major depressive episode. Poetry, at the time, was my method of catharsis.
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