misfits

       
the moon cried   
for its misfit children of the night   
caught in their odd attire   
still running wild at morning's first blush   
    
with all their efforts to stay the morn   
they still couldn't outrun the sun   
    
sticking out like macabre bastards   
among the bright shining faces   
of the many peoples   
    
they hang their heads in shame   
to be caught running round haggard   
in the clothes they donned the night before   
    
bar hoppers   
one night stand takers   
revelers in debaucheries own   
    
the day is unkind to these night walkers   
it shines its light on their every flaw    
    
their nighttime carousing once hidden   
is blaring and clear   
to day's seemingly wholesome kin   
    
nighttime believers   
with their salacious ways of thinking   
the sun blazes and they scatter   
    
the misfit children of the moon   
the night's own lonely creatures