in the cold of the night
do you ever ask yourself
why you still exist?
staring at the stars,
do you ever feel engulfed
by the tinyness of you?
waiting out the night,
do you ever start to doubt
that day will ever come?
the world is too still--
the stars are too cold--
the night is too long.
in those strange and lonely hours
is there ever any reason
not to go insane?
August '01
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