5 AM the world is so quiet, but my thoughts are so loud                               

Feeling like I got it all to myself, that's for certain there is no doubt                      

Searching, in pursuit of new places for my imagination to go and scout            

Everything starting to get old, indeed I need a new route                              

Keep trying to push out a smile, always avoiding a pout                                        

Wishing my hard work will flower, the fruits of my labor would sprout                

No place to belong sitting on the inside yet I am feeling so out                           

Heavy weight been overloaded, the result is a stout                                              

The world is so peaceful at 5 am, so I really can't shout                                           

I Leave it all up to the one up above, & a stream of my words on paper I spout