A poet's sleepless night

I find myself yawning again and again, 
But I can't sleep, which is a real pain.
I lie on my left side, then on my right, 
But, for me, there is no sleep in sight.

Next, I turn and lie flat on my back, 
But, of any sleep, there is still a lack.
I lie there, looking up at the ceiling: 
Pretty drained, is how I am feeling.

I wish my system would just slow down, 
But, through my mind, thoughts race round.
Feeling restless, I begin to huff and puff: 
I know that, in the morning, I'll feel rough.

As a poet, my mind is still really busy rhyming, 
But, when I'm trying to sleep, it isn't great timing.
To try and get some sleep, I really endeavour, 
But the night seems to go on forever and ever.

I am really willing my mind to take a rest, 
But, night time is when my mind thinks best.
Over my sleeping patterns, I have no control: 
On me, tomorrow, lack of sleep will take its toll.

As I snuggle myself down, under the covers, 
My body wants one thing; my mind, another.
When lying in bed, I just want some peace: 
I want all of this rhyming, for once, to cease.

end rhymeshatepoempoetsleep

◄ Just another breakdown

The Prison ►

Comments

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Paul Sayer

Fri 29th May 2020 17:18

I have only just seen this...

I had a long conversation one night, explaining that I am getting pissed off being woken up in the middle of the night to write poetry.

I did not have a choice... I TOLD them that I would give them the time during the day when 'I' was ready to write.

I made an appointment with them... WHICH I KEPT!

I worked for me then and still does to this day.

They will let you sleep if they know you will tune in whilst you are awake.

They come in our sleep because that is the only time our mind shuts up long enough for them to get a word in lol.

Po

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