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In the Wee Hours

In the wee, wee hours From a deep, deep sleep, I was jolted upright By a clueless creep. For he dialed my number And my phone did blare; So I grabbed it quickly, Wondering who was there. As my heart was pounding And I prepped for grief, I awaited news From my slumber thief. But he left me hanging, The connection lost; And for hours after, I just turned and tossed. Yet that hang-up helped To make my fears subside. After all, nobody Whom I love had died. Still, a part of me Simply must condemn Someone calling at 3:45 A.M.!

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012




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Date: 5/18/2012 6:09:00 AM
ilene I love this, it has a great rap beat to it..David
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Date: 5/18/2012 5:34:00 AM
Horrible way to be woken up to Ilene, well done poem. - oxox love Anne-Lise
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Date: 5/18/2012 1:05:00 AM
Yeah... it's kinda scarry when it rings (or whatever the sound is nowadays) in the middle of the night... a nice poem, nevertheless... ;-) Terry
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Date: 5/17/2012 7:14:00 PM
Doncha hate it when someone calls at that ungodly hour!!! You figure it's gotta be bad news, right? To write a poem about it is just sheer genius! Killer cadence and rhyme as usual, my dear!! Well done. Best wishes, Keith
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Date: 5/17/2012 6:32:00 PM
I agree. I turn my phone off at night just so I do not get that call at 3:45. Love this!
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