staring at the dark ceiling
thinking nothing at all
thinking a thousand thoughts
all at the same time
the clock ticks my night away
while I wait for something
that does not come
insomnia, an ugly word
a word I detest, hate, despise
I can see the dawn coming
as it breaks through the blinds
I hear the birds, chirping their alarm
and as I roll to my side
away from the light,
I close my eyes, again
nothing, nada, zilch
another night, a new day
the same as the one before
Poetry by M.J.B. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
No comments:
Post a Comment