The Fiction.

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Blog Post About This Poem.

How wonderful the moon lit up the sky,
As nocturnal life around woke up in annoyed,
Lights they don’t like as what they see matters not,
What sees them brings danger beyond knowledge.

Monotonous city life took busy minds to countryside,
Where the pace of life our well fought gained freedom, decide,
Ten thousand cars are not screaming to reach destinations,
No one is planning to loot you, rape you, or kill you.

Mornings like yesterday unfolded, evenings for tomorrow closed,
The bartenders smiled sincerely from heart to give cheer,
The drunk just fell apart and to their homes walked,
None thought about graphs, computers, and retirement plans,

A morning brewed before eyes as my sleep left town unchecked,
Boredom brewed in the house where everything repeated,
For reasons myself cannot comprehend and they cannot justify,
The sweet hot tea gave a burn on lips for an unexpected change.

To myself I said, “I am awake” and to the echoes listened,
My heart beat at a pace that made me restful and calm,
Boredom left when I questioned my conscience about the calm,
Conscience brought to me a new fiction about my love life with her.

Sitting around the blabbering television, I woke my soliloquy,
And the fiction I told that echoed all around my house,
The falling in love, the marriage, the family, and a long life,
I took the last sip from the cold tea as nocturnal life around woke.

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