There was something, and this was it. – A poem

I’m stuck
In the nagging nudges
Of the night
As they pace in the dark
And tell me to write.
But tonight
Nothing seems right.
I feel no urge
For scribbles
Under flashlight.
I feel the time ticking
As the night’s nags
Are tickling
The underneath of my feet.
I haven’t tried to sleep
Because there has to be something.
The stars are expecting
An addition to their family tonight.
But that’s the thing.
Creation
Under expectation
Will never form
Those perfect constellations.
I’m trapped in the binds
Of my own mind.
How can I escape?

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