The Owl of the Day Before
The owl,
He lives for night, He waits all day,
For the sun to go down,
So his night demons can play,
He waits For so long,
For the darkness where he belongs,
The night breeze brushes against him, in a nighttime lust,
To shed this outer layer, of the daytime crust,
He feels free once more, as he walks out the door,
As he forgets the stresses, of the day before,
His eyes focus to a night life dream,
No longer angry, no need to scream,
He relaxes and he plays,
Till his night runs out,
And turns to day,
He will sit and he will wait once more,
As he did the day before,
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