It's 4:30 at night, and I'm beginning to write,

I turn on the light to improve my sight,

I put the earphones on and listen to the melody of a song..

I begin the first sentence but it sounds so wrong

an unusual difficulty

I usually have so much to spit outta my system

I begin to listen

the sound of the wind coming from the window in the kitchen

it brings back memmories of when we were children

after a long day of playing

laying in my bed tired

my bedroom curtains are highered

I would stare at the face of the moon

I lick my lips and taste the left overs of my dinner soup..

shooting stars race pass my window in the night sky

oh how i wondered what it was like to fly

I hear a tap coming from my door,

obviously it was my mother coming to tuck me in to read me a story book

it sucks now that I'm older,

I can read a book on my own..

we moved to a new home,

now I'm mature and I don't do the things i use to do no more..