On a dark winter morning at 3 AM
Customarily roused from sleep
Wide awake while another slept in peace
I was, its fair to say, surprised to see
That all the restless beating of my heart
Said there was a poem inside of me
"I looked at the mirror
She looked right back at me
And just as I was about to start
She beat me to it and asked like the wind carefree
'The thing loved or the loving thing-
Which one of these would you rather be?'"
