Missing Out, for DS

It’s after midnight,
actually one o’clock,
she is asleep,
and I cannot turn off;

I endure the exhaustive,
late-hour crush,
for slept ones, I live for,
who count so much.

I am half-unique,
my diseased-feature;
I am still awake,
a nocturnal creature.

Tonight it’s no different,
my keyboard rattles,
no song in my head
and that also matters.

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