It's 3 A.M.

It's three AM
and here I am,
a very tired;
tired old man.
Why can't I sleep,
through another long night,
as I sit and scribe
all these words, so trite.
Writing of a sadness,
is what I now do,
as I think of my friends,
like you and like you.
Is it worth it,
having a sleepless night,
while writing these words,
with no plan in sight?
I hope it is, I really do
for I write for me
and I write for you.