NO REST FOR THE WICKED’

By the Urban Poet

Eyes wide closed in sleepy repose

Sultry sun rays warm the eyelids of the weary and bleary in the morning dew

Escape into a resting heaven eludes

 

Pressures of the day abound as demands in the mind, twist round and around like

torment to the very soul once again

Work and family top the list of concerns

 

Before long, the dimming twilight skies

bring anxious feelings of impending defeat

Leading once more to confront the night

That hovers darkly between the sheets

 

Forgotten feelings overcome, turning and twisting beyond the limits of endurance

Once more forcing premature rising, to

stumble downstairs is not unsurprising

 

A routine established in many years past

With each night being as bad as the last

The dawning of a fresh new day should

Help to take the feel of deprivation away

 

But no changes are felt as bravado erodes 

The will and determination melt away and

make space for another insomnia episode

On this tired, bleary and wearisome day.

 

The counting of sheep

       Recounting lost days sleep:

           one,

               Two 

                   Four

                      Seven....

 ‘Rick Varden