Tired eyes, sorry ear, a heavy head,
A soul that yearns for rest in bed.
But as the night draws it's curtain,
The mind refuses to switch off .
The pillow is soft, the sheets are warm,
But the racing thoughts bring a storm.
The clock ticks loudly, the night is deep,
The mind is wide-awake, it cannot sleep.
Sleep, elusive and hard to find,
Leaves the body restless and confined.
The night drags on, the world is quiet,
As the insomniac struggles and fights.
For sleep, a sanctuary and a relief,
To end the night's endless grief.
But until it comes, the insomniac must cope,
With the exhaustion, frustration and hope.
YOU ARE READING
Memoryscape
PoetryMemoryscape is the collection of my poems, written about various life experiences and feelings stored in Random Access Memory.
