I stay up late

I stay up late
   to pretend
that I have time

I stay up late
   to prevent
myself from thinking

it is late
   and I dread the day
the next day of doing more

of doing it all again
a life I hate
heaven forfend

that we be happy
that all we say
   is true

   is true
and there is no keeping score
   of too much crying

about the past
that is mine
that I regret

who I am
and the lists
of things I do not do

and the twists and turns
   of Fate
that is unkind -

all the things for which we pay
all that is no longer new
all that is too sore

   to bear -
I am fed up with the wood -

the word from my dad
   was 'should'
and it stayed too long.

I stay up late
   studying maps
of all the roads I knew

the scenes I unwind
   like ragged wool I pluck
and cannot leave alone, put down.

I stay up late
   to pretend
	that all is fine
	that we are not alone
	that we have time
		to do

and all the things we should have done
   are dim, and lying,
		quiet song
   that does not offend.

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