pale moonlight filters through closed blinds,
a silvery shape on the carpet
tossing, turning
no rest for the weary
forgetting where you are
reorienting yourself
you're in your room
on your bed
that is the ceiling
there is the window
the silvery shape has moved several inches across the floor...
how long has it been,
how much longer will it be
before unconsciousness drags your lids closed with leaden fingers
and fitful sleep overtakes you
it does not matter either way
you will not feel rested come morning
-
Author:
Casper James (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 21st, 2021 00:11
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 14
Offline)
Comments1
(a wonderful write, thanks for sharing and inspiring my little scribbled reply)
Greeks gave us hypnos,
Romans, gave us Insomnia
and we cleaned up their mess, with our little coloured pill...
and they say progressing
on a broken road, will lead you
to your downfall?
ha!
how would we know, we got pills baby
we got pills, and cartoons with flying carpets...
who needs, peace and serenity?
we've just got to find that pill,
that will have us flying in our beds,
then all, will be just dreamy surreal
Wonderful poem! I'm glad you could draw inspiration from my insomniac writings
Wonderful poem! I'm glad you could draw inspiration from my insomniac writings
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