Insomnia
I turn off the light and lie in my room.
I close my eyes and pray I’ll sleep this night,
Maybe at witching hour I will finally dream.
Tossing and turning I open my eyes,
Look at the clock until I begin to stare.
It slowly clicks to eleven-oh-four.
Time passes and the clock strikes one-oh-four.
It is bone chilling and dark in that room.
The creepers and crawlers with peepers that stare,
Across the moonlight and into the night.
Tick, tick, tick, the clock taunts my ears and eyes,
Pulling on my hair, this is the real dream.
It has to be; it has to be the dream.
Click, click, click, my wristwatch reads two thirty-four.
Rip them out and throw them away! My eyes,
They pace around inside that cold, black room,
Only wishing to sleep during the night.
I ask, “What do I do?” I refuse to stare.
Open the curtains and look at the stars to stare,
Watch the way they hang in the sky and dream
Tiny explosions to light up the night.
They help to forget it is past three-oh-four.
Brush away the light and sigh in my room,
Watch as the darkness dances around my eyes.
Engulfed by the night, I wish to close my eyes,
I am haunted now by my own stare.
Crying all along in my dim, little room,
All I want to do is sleep and dream.
The clock won’t let me as it reads five-oh-four.
But then I see it rise in the night,
The sun and the horizon battle, ending night,
The stars fade away and I close my eyes,
I lie in bed at six-twenty-four,
I see my eyelids, allowing myself to stare.
Light filters through and I drift off to dream,
The sun then floods in and I drown in my room.
Tick, tick, tick; I no longer hear the clock.
