Noisy Little John
Can you put him back to sleep?
It's just past 1
But I can hear him weep.
I need my beauty rest,
But his cries,
Annoy my cells.
That boy knows nothing ,
But shout,
As if hell is waiting-
For him to be around.
Put him back to sleep.
Or I'll be the one to bring him to slumber.
I said put
John
Back to sleep.
Or I'll be the one to sleep forever.
John is knocking-
Oh no...
He's near my door,
Should I hide under my bed
And crawl on the floor?
The door opened-
"Can we sleep together tonight?"
Of course.
My noisy little John.
How stupid am I-
To nickname my anxiety, "John".
YOU ARE READING
Always on the 13th Hour
PoetryThis is a collection of prose and poetry, and a bunch of thoughts that keeps me awake every night. This is all about what goes on every 13th hour... if that hour even exists.
