Just A Word Before I Go...

It’s much too late to be writing. 

We’ve just watched a movie (not very good) and being sick, I should be in bed - but instead, I stayed up to do this. 

And what is this? 

Well, that’s a good question. 

It is the promise I made to myself to write something every day - no matter how dreadful.

And this is it. 

Dreadful, isn’t it?

Ha-ha!

In dark and stealth it comes around,

The air turned turbulent and wild.

Its ushered forth, without a sound,

The new ideal, the ideal child.

And what, pray tell, is so ideal

about a thought that’s ushered forth?

Why, turning surreal into real -

The heart, awakened, finds its worth.

Yes.

I know.

But it’s late.

I’m sick.

I must.

To bed...