Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2012
I ache, I have that feeling of sleep but like a wave of discomfort beneath my skin
I cannot sleep.
The pattern on the ceiling that isn't there,
the hissing of silence the buzz of the fly you cannot see..
All just your exhausted mind altering your senses.
To hot now or to cold, turn the pillow. Stare at the clock.
Is it to early to *** again or should I make a brew ?
No **** it the caffeine would send me wild.
When will I sleep.
Micheal Wolf
Written by
Micheal Wolf  On the edge of reason, UK
(On the edge of reason, UK)   
897
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems