Nocturnal Mind
Like a machine
My veiny right hand
Programmed
Possessed
At lonely hours
Between midnight and dawn
I come alive.
Pen and paper
I come alive.
Coffee and silence
Harmonize
Not a sound to be heard
Except some crickets chirping
And some street dogs barking.
Like a finger on a trigger
Bullets escape
This mental gun inside my head
Executing lyrical labor
As thoughts race through
My nocturnal mind.
Author: Kevin Grant
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