3 am and nothing to do
Haunting for sleep
my illusive prey
Looking at pictures
memories rush in
Memories and thoughts
of the great and the far
Of friends and of fun
and dreams out of reach
Why am I writing this
I have no clue
The keyboard an instrument
my fingers the conductors
playing art without sound
yet full of love and passion
This work came not from my mind
but straight from my heart
The reason is unknown
but the purpose is too clear
Words to reach my friends
when I am too far myself
