Numbers glow and blur in the darkness of the room.
Their presence and meaning mock me.
My eyelids weigh themselves down; however, they refuse to close.
My mind jitters and stutters, indecisive concerning where, with whom or what its thoughts should be.
The moonlight spills through the window, illuminating my troubled thought.
The shadows dance about me and my musing.
I soon discover more insomnia the night has brought.
I lie in my bed, feeling tired and distraught.
The early morning light through my curtained window begins to seep.
Finally, I discover my solace in blissful sleep.
YOU ARE READING
Insomnia
PoesíaA short poem I wrote after arriving home late from a college night class.
