It's 2am

It's 2am

I'm all alone

Awake to gnaw on passions bone

There's no meat

The marrows gone

I awake to find

I'm all alone

It's the dreams that live within my skull

That wake me after they take their toll

The marks been left by words been said

The marks of love swim in my head

It used to be I'd wake at four

And spill my words out on the floor

But now it's two approaching three

Nothing seems to set me free

Like Poe's raven my soul is claimed

My mind is battered my soul is maimed

It's 2am no now it's three

I pray this love to let me be

Reviews

[Shimmerbliss/CAF]

I love this! It is a feeling and situation that I can certainly relate to. Your use of the time, and the way you seem to clock it, ticks this poem and meters it well.
It is difficult for me when I read a unique and special work as this to offer any criticism at all, and yet, I know that I would want the same if someone who enjoyed my work saw something that took away from the piece. So...I would offer these suggestions in humility, only because such a wonderful poem deserves no distractions within. I am constantly very caught up in the flow of a poem and can miss typos, etc. Just check the possessives, and contractions. Perhaps you may want to add a few apostrophes. Also, possibly "It used to be" instead of "it used to been" . Again, a wonderful poem and when small typos corrected will get stellar reception from anyone I think.

[...]

. oh ... i know this feeling so well ... it's that nasty burn out that saps one of all one's energy ... but you turned it into such an earnest piece of poetry ... that it's a great read ...

[Rusty]

Rusrt! Me Likes. Thanks. Been a long arduous week and I am quite rung out. Thanks again my far off friend for adding a little validation to a worn out week.

[Distant horizons]

Nicely done Rusrt, especially in such a silly o'clock time as this was.