Sleepy eyes...
Follow the brilliant white keys along the screen,
Hiding depths of groggy wakefulness,
'Maybe poems will come'
The eyes whisper to the screen,
An inaudible sizzle meets the gaze,
They sit in ponderance,
For the night is younger than it could be,
And tomorrow shall remain a little ahead of them,
As it always has...

'Poems came'
Whispered the weary eyes,
Blinking silent syllables at the screen,
Thinking of the many lights that sought to meet it in its depths,
Yet it returned to the screen once again,
For it shines the warmest light on deepest darkest pupils,
A chorus of static fizzing meets the eyes,
Friendship for the tired days,
They sit still again,
For silence is the talk of sleepy friends.