I love this poem. I've often felt this way myself, and I especially like the contrasts between dark and light - I tend to see the whole world in pairs of opposites, so I found this very appealing. The last stanza is beautiful, I know exactly how you feel. Yet I wonder - philosophically speaking - whether you might try appreciating the morning too? Surely there is another transition, one full of hope and promise yet not too optimistic to be unnatural, still with hints of darkness about it? Perhaps you could try writing another poem, a pair to this one - that would continue the parallels and pairs and might make for an answer to the question you leave open at the end.

To be quite honest, the only thing that dawn has ever brought me is a sense of isolation and alienation; I am not sure that I have any place left in me for real hope. The night has always been "my time"; I never feel like I belong to the daylight hours. There is a wall between me and everything else; I have tried everything I know of to break it down, yet have been unable to do so. No matter what I do or where I go, I cannot shake the feeling that I do not belong here; the midnight hours seem to me to be a glimpse into a distant future or past, to a time when I did (or do) belong. Society has no place for someone like me; the more I try to blend in, the more I stand out. Do you understand where I am coming from with this? I can write about the night in this way because, if for only a brief moment, I can feel like I have a place, that I am part of something much bigger than myself. Night is the gateway to truth in my mind; daylight blinds people to the truth. In the day you find so many people in denial...about themselves, about the world around them. As I said in the poem, I cannot find it in myself to pity them; after all, ignorance can be bliss. I am just an oddball with no place to belong in this world, a dark silhouette haunting the shadows cast by the light of the sun. That poem idea sounds like a good one, but I think that you would be a better person to write it; I do not feel any hope, so I cannot write about it. It's probably what I envy most about so-called "normal" people...they still possess the capacity to believe that everything will turn out all right in the end. Why don't you write the poem, and say that it is an answer to this one? I would look forward to seeing what you come up with.

I'll have a go!! But in a way, maybe you should just accept that night is your time and be happy with it, instead of half-wishing for the day, even if you know you'd be out of place in it and even see it as an illusion. The most important thing in life is not to try to be who you want to be, but to be content with who you are. So I'll have a go at the dawn poem... but I will only succeed if that really is who I am. Maybe I'm more twilight, I don't know yet... in that respect you're lucky to know. Maybe I'll find out by trying though. What I'm trying to say is - no-one is "normal" or "abnormal" because if you were "abnormal" you wouldn't be who you are. You have merely found a more unique niche in life and I'd say that was something to be proud of. It's a thought that might yield some hope... that you can develop yourself to be more truly you.

I am :Abnormal" in the fact that I seemingly have no niche whatsoever...I was either born two thousand years too late, or a few hundred thousand years too early; I am not sure which it is. I do not know who or what I am; my Self is a near-total loss, a victim of society and circumstance. How can I develop myself to be "more truly me" if I do not know who "me" is, or whether I should even be here at all?I am of the belief that I should not even exist...there is no real need for me here or anywhere else. My own family does not take me seriously, refusing to give me any credit. I am not seen as myself, as a unique individual; no, I am seen as a person with undisclosed problems, a broken object that everyone wants to fix and no one is willing to leave alone. As I said before, the more I try to blend into a crowd, the more I seem to stand out in a negative way. People hate me and they do not know or care why, but I do know the reason behind it: people automatically reject what they do not understand, and I appear to be beyond their understanding. Even those that I could perhaps loosely call "friends" do not seem to comprehend me. I can slip into their shoes easily, seeing the world from their perspective...but the reverse is not so. If I wanted to, I could become another person if I know them well wnough, for I am mutable, a changeling or chameleon meant to live enshadowed. Yet if I fell, there is no one to fill in my place, if indeed it is even required. Ultimately I seem to be expendable; I seem not to have a place anywhere. I long for life and death simultaneously, but the desire for death is by far the stronger. However, I will also never commit suicide; I know it for the truly fruitless act that it is. Death does not solve one's problems; it exacerbates them. I believe in a form of reincarnation (not karmic, but all actions still have a price), and that belief leads me to the thought that the death of the physical body is truly meaningless; the only death that would bear any weight is the death of the soul, and I have no idea how to bring that about. If you do not believe the same things, so be it; I am merely trying to illustrate my viewpoint.

Good luck on the poem...I look forward to reading what you come up with.