The Wee Hours
written by: Kenneth Vincent Walker
In these the wee hours
Of this a placid morning
When all is but silenced,
And the planet is yawning
In deep unconsciousness.
For these are the moments
Valued but taken for granted,
An escape from the violence
In a world reputedly slanted
In perpetual decay as it sours.
Indeed these are the times
Which try every man’s soul
Throwing us way off balance
Into a spiraling vortex hole
Of deep unconsciousness.
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