Writing Prompt

the woman standing on the corner

the doctors clocking in for the shift

the kids sneaking out

never knowing whats adrift

the stars shining bright

the twinkle in the girls eye

staring at the boy

completely mesmerized

Night hours can be scary

beautiful and daring

everyone comes alive

especially at night ...

My eyes fixated, frozen by shock

They glow bright in the dark

And simultaneously hide the true horrors

Of the night behind their beauty

You ever wonder

Why it rains in the dead of the night?

My tear drops are solace

For the many victims of the nights hunts

I see the night creep in every evening

And slowly start to devour my Sun

The darknesses reach knows no boundaries

As his grips slowly ...

Shimmering , shining all around

Paving the way for light

For hope, even when not making a single sound

Managing to be so bright

Filling up the night

The people and critters going by

Looking up without feeling fright

Knowing what’s up there in the sky...

Opossum

Operched on the fence opost

Oplanning to opilfer

Oplenty of bird seed

And if the opit bull

Startles the opoor thing

It will oplay dead until

It can opeace out

An opoem...

as I walk through the park at night

I can see the moon shine

even off the water it’s bright

to my right lays a streak of light

cutting the creek in two

it’s as if a sword was gashed right through

a crystal ripple that reflects by the sec

for miles water flows but you can only see what the moon shows...

Walking alone the cold hard concrete

Feeling the frigid in the air

Hearing noises that give chills down the spines

The mysteries of the night are one of the most

Scariest mysteries...

Mysteries of the Night

No one sees the open tabs on midnight screens,

where half‑typed confessions hover in drafts

and courage lives in read receipts.

Streetlamps pulse like unread texts

while confidence blooms in the glow of lock‑screen notifications.

In these hours we chase danger and desire—

a double‑tap that sparks an affair,

a DM that tastes like true love,

anxiety pinging like an overdue a...

Somethings lay broken,

Unspoken.

But at midnight it’s their token,

The unspoken becomes spoken....

A bat is at the window,

with his beautiful shadow.

It sleeps

otherwise and does

not mind the noises

from the other houses.

It looks so relaxed

as if the worries never existed.

The bat struggles at day

with problems

like everyone does,

but at night it just _lay_.

A bat is at the window,

with his beautiful shadow....

Some people might go to bed

As soon as the moon hides to sun

But not me.

When the light from far away

Shines through my window,

Traces silver patterns on my skin,

Draws unseen maps to places

That only exist at night

I follow them.

The moon smiles at me,

Warming the cold corners of my heart,

Filling the empty spaces with quiet whispers.

The stars, scattered like forgotten wishes,

Blink secrets on...