Whats your thoughts on this poem I wrote?
The house never truly slept.
The dryer hummed at 2AM.
Pipes groaned behind the walls.
Someone forgot to flush again.
And somewhere between the bathroom light
and the sound of old floorboards,
a tired man stood silently
holding a wrench in one hand
and exhaustion in the other.
Outside,
the world still called this ordinary.
At 4AM,
he would drive beneath dark skies,
listening to music
while produce skids waited for him under fluorescent lights.
Nobody in aisle seven
would know
how close he was
to breaking.
But There was Someone who knew.
And perhaps that was enough
to survive another sunrise.