It's that time, again,
That I must try,
To force some shut,
Into my eye.
I won't succeed,
But try, I will,
I'll lie, dust dead,
And stony still.
For just two hours,
Maybe three,
I'll call the sandman,
Here, to me.
And, maybe,
If I'm lucky, so,
He'll find a place,
For me to go.
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Teased by glimpses of sleep My subconsciousness creeps. All around me is dark Apart from Opuss' spark. Surrender my mind Rest and dreams to find.
Not much to say Brain's gone away Looking for it in my bed Nope, not here It doesn't want to play Tired, But wired Feel so......uninspired It's morning already, I should be asleep My body's so...
Tonight in my bedroom as I switched off the light Much to my distress there began an awful fight.
It's such an elusive thing. Fleeting. Sitting on the sofa watching the TV, you feel you eyelids start to droop and so take yourself to bed.
Oh God, What is that. Urgh, an alarm, Why did I set one of those. Urgh, roll over, roll over, Great.
How do I let you know. How can I make you see. Which words would say best, What you mean to me. Will they ever make sense. Where is my courage to say them.
Why am I even up At this early time And what makes it worse Is I'm writing it in rhyme.
~ It's 4am and I'm still avoiding sleep, so I wrote this poem.
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