TiredA Poem by j.l. lunaThe entire world is tired. No matter where I go: people are yawning, eyes closed, microsleeping. And can you blame them? With a culture that expects so much, one that deprives us of bedtimes, it is like an unfaithful lover. Sometimes it pleases us with its honesty, its fulfillment; it wants to keep you satisfied. But then, like rain in Southern California, it is quickly gone, left you for something else. And now you lay awake in this dry heat, you are desolate and empty; crying out for comfort and rest, to whoever might hear your voice. Although these efforts are wasted, for there are no angels in Los Angeles © 2014 j.l. lunaReviews
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1 Review Added on November 9, 2014 Last Updated on November 9, 2014 Authorj.l. lunalos angeles, CAAboutAge 27, eternally a little punk rock kid. I spend most of my time reading, writing, listening to music and learning. Poetry is my specialty but I am lingering in the realm of short story and novel .. more..Writing
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