The clicks of clocks being all that I can hear
taunt my exhausted soul by bewildering my ear;
with a twist of the neck, a peek of the eye,
I see the vivid, red digits and begin to recite pi;
trying anything and everything to catch a single Z,
I stumble to my feet as I go to take a pee.
Standing on the frigid, firm tiles with only the nightlight to see,
my nitrogenous waste begins to flee;
heading every which way, high and low,
if it were winter there would be a hell of a lot of yellow snow;
a single thought, causing me to realize the seat is down,
I quickly flick it up thinking how my mother will frown.
As I pull to flush and turn the cold faucet on,
my senses tell me it is nearing the crack of dawn;
staggering back to my room, the comfort of my bed,
random thoughts meander in the abyss of my head;
only needing a sheet, since it has become spring,
the breeze from the window pierces my skin like a bee sting.
Tossing and turning, unable to even have a siesta,
I knew that evening I should have popped a Lunesta;
with a final attempt, my last chance of a snooze,
I reach over to the remote turning on some soft, soothing blues;
recognizing that I can never be enchanted by dreams
I stay up until sunrise to view its eloquent gleams.