Don't you hate those wickedly long days when you melt into your bed at night, eager for sleep, only to find that you're wide awake? Or knowing that you have to get up early, but you see every number go by on the clock beside your bed? I've had many of those nights, mostly because I get my best ideas at night when I'm trying to sleep! Here's a poem that I wrote one night at 3:30 in the morning. Hope you like it!
Contrary to the busy day,
By sleep are voices kept at bay.
Familiar sounds of day heard not
The only noises are my thoughts.
The darkness keeps me blind of sight,
Odd silhouettes thrown by moonlight.
Oh how I long to be like those,
The ones who sleep, the ones who doze.
So long I've wanted to unwind
I can't turn off my busy mind.
I hear a creaking, is it real?
The sound of footsteps, so surreal.
The world's a different place at night.
Strange shadows form a chilling sight.
I'm conscious of each breath I take.
All night I fear I'll be awake.