Its 6am

I've deleted and re-written every single thing for a few times now, I am at ends wit and I don't know what to write. Lets write a poem okay?

Planes come passing by,

Bringing multitudes in with a loud cry,

Its silent here where i lie,

It makes me think of what of the world if i should die,

No i'm just pulling your leg cause i want things to rhyme,

Got you! didn't i?

The silence is broken finally, with the colorful linguistics of the the middle eastern tribes. It feels like a intrusion of the private peaceful period in which I had. Argh. sucks. I can't write anymore.bye.