Wynken Blynken and Nod???
(ah...oh methinks this pissant pooch woof lee
barked up the wrong tree –
reed don my mongrel friend)

This poetic endeavor doth not boast nor brag
to take digs on front page
     headline grabbing news, nonetheless dag
nab bit significant dysfunction prevails
     when ****** energy
     does shutterfly like a black flag
without rapid eye movement,
     this lix spittle chap

     feels like an old hag
whereat every friggin bone (er)
     in this straggly,mangy, and creaky ship
     of state feels like jag
head shards piercing thine flesh
     with pronounced jet lag
and reacts with
     the slightest provocation

     like a curmudgeonly
     cranky compromised nag,
yet, this muttering mouth foaming
     flea bitten doggone chow barker
     bows down in (toto) obeisance
     (like an obedient Dachshund)
     tail wagging, trump petting,

     and snout sniffing out provenance
     on par with the smell of new sofa despite
     fur vent angry ma
     stiff masta paws zing
aghast at dog eared, glom haired,
     and icky stained new furniture,
     how petty, versus slumber
     lest awakening the Cerberus within,
     hence faux long enough

to excel as the top notch mix breed
     boxer golden retriever terrier
    male delivery postbag
(as taught at canine obedient school)
upon spilling contents,
     the bulk of printed material

     detailing importance,
     sans letting sleeping
     Canis lupus familiaris lye undisturbed,
     especially after a bath
     when pooch resembles
     a limp dish rag
all apropos hot (gravy trained) relevant
     topics for instance,

     when feeling sleep deprived
     detailing how to shepherd
     and summon the snoop doggy dog
     inchoate hounding gnarly
     Marley elusive dream
     fostering feigning fearsome nightmare
     asper getting lost without a name tag.

An insomniac of life, not quite awake, but not asleep through the days and the nights. Using the remainder of his innocence as a trail to show him where he's been and where he hasn't. Leaving behind scraps of paper to show them it wasn't a complete waste of time.
Drowsily talking to himself in his head as a voice echoes through his ears.

"Oh.. Wait, what did you just say?"

It wouldn't be
my place
to tell you what
you want to hear To
play with your delusions,
make the devil's horns appear
I'd rather be a figment of the thoughts you never seek
The ones
that won't betray you when
you've fallen into sleep
At ease with all the pressure
there's enough of it to
****
To keep you in your
head until its growth is stunted, still
you never thought you'd see the heavy future
you can feel
But there is nothing else, today has
never felt so
**real