at three a.m.

halfway through the night, thoughts descend
waiting for pixie dust sprinkled
by faeries in purple shoes
dreams flipped and flopped in a kaleidoscope
of colors yet to be named by human
sentences morphed into questions
knowing the answers would not be revealed
hopelessness sat by the bed, praying
that dawn would come to the rescue


written for napowrimo ~ “nine lines”

© annie scribes 2017
all rights reserved


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