A journal is to a writer as a sketchpad is to an artist.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Poem
It is 3 am. The streets are quiet. A rat scurries in front of me, disappearing in the alley. At 3am, the returnes of passion and pleasure diminishes. 3am; I should be in bed, but I'm in my element. I love my 3am walks It's very quiet and solitary.
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