It gets quiet at 3am. <br />The bedsheets are wrinkled and rolled back. <br />Another half empty cup of coffee, <br />Another crumpled sheet of paper. <br />Elbows on the table, head in hands. <br /> <br />It gets quiet at 3am. <br />The only sound is the calm traffic in the street below, <br />And the late-night infomercial. <br />A breeze shakes the drapes. <br /> <br />It gets quiet at 3am. <br />I rub the sleep from my eyes and look out the window. <br />The streets are a ghostown, lonesome <br />And soaked in the early morning wet. <br /> <br />I'd like to lay down forever, <br />But it gets too quiet to sleep.<br /><br />Patrick O'Reilly<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/3am-and-it-s-quiet/
