The clock struck three, hickory dickory dock

The lonely ones come out at midnight.

The ones that howl when they see love.

They will drink themselves to sleep, hoping that their first sight when they awake, will be the beautiful girl that left them years ago.

The partiers come out at 1 am.

They will dance like their life depends on it and they will laugh with such a fervor you have never seen before.

They will sit on laps

They will spill drinks

They will mumble clumsy words screaming how they truly feel,

Only to be waved off.

The insomniacs awake at 2 am.

Praying to God that they can get rest tonight.

Hoping that maybe this day will be better than the restless night.

Wondering why the lavender scent in their room has yet to carry them to sleep.

3 am is the darkest hour, yes, 3 am.

This time of day is as empty as a lonely mans heart.

It is as hollow as a partiers laugh.

It is as hopeless as the insomniacs dreams.

But still, you will find yourself awake at 3 am one morning,

And wish you had better things to do.