Sunday, March 4, 2012


Eyes are dry and burning bright,
the clock is ticking through the night,
Mind is running on and on,
thought flying swifter than a twirling baton,
Seconds, minutes, hours pass by,
I cannot sleep no matter how I try,
Eyes are shut, muscles relaxed,
but alack my imagination is maxed.
What if... I should.... I need....
Who is..... I would indeed....
Rhapsodies of images float around me, (written in 2000)
haunting me through another hour,
I hear the birds begin in stir in their leafy wooden bower,
I try to read myself to rest but read my eyes can not,
My vision blurs and swerves seeing things that are not plot.
I punch the pillow, grind my teeth, and then I start to cry,
for the days I'd go to sleep with just a lullaby.
(completed tonight)

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