Copyright 2014 by Bob Rogers
Note: I wrote this poem originally as a teenager in 1975, but to this day, I continue to struggle with the same feeling that it expresses.
When I plop wearily into bed
Lights out at the end of the day
I suddenly begin to remember
All of the things I forgot to say
All of the things I forgot to do, too.
The simple reason for my every view
I remembered I had left unsaid
What later popped into my head.
These thoughts come slowly, like
the gradual approach of a far-off light.
And they always manage to come to me
in the midst of the night.
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