

Night PersonIn the dead of night, I walk without a soul And it makes me happy.Night Person
Everything is new. Each creak in the concrete sidewalks
Are beautifully wrapped presents
With words for me to take
Out of thanks for noticing what cannot be seen in the day.
The common places which we pass without much refrain Can become treasures of the eye.
A place where chasing thought cannot be done in naught And any sound of tear can be cried.
Yes this kind of wandering has it dangers. Cars of metallic fury can awaken you
From something that was all too real. &nb
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"Those who will not reason, are bigots, those who cannot, are fools, and those who dare not, are slaves."
Lord Byron
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