Cant sleep wrote a poem.

Over the ringing in my ears I hear the gears grind in this cheap red clock. Ticking away the night and every second of rest and peace my mind craves. Ticking through my thoughts of things never said and should have and things said that shouldn’t have been. The heavy weight of darknes and time…

The Wait

In the near future, on a railroad track in an unrecognizable American City sits a young boy with his grandfather. The grandfather ponders the past and passes the knowledge of a world gone by to his legacy. Boy, he says as the child looks deep in to the ancient tired eyes of a poor figure…