Midnight
but the sleep won't come.
Static
between the channels
on the bedside radio
as in some far off place
announcers tell us
what's on
their late night minds
their late night minds
The city never sleeps,
they say.
Perhaps that's why
it looks so tired
most of the time.
Perhaps that's why
the urban weariness
stretches to touch me
on every
street corner.
street corner.
Red tail-lights
sketch their progress
through the neon jungle
and paint kaleidoscopes
upon my bedroom wall
and the night shift
begins.
Still the heart
but the mind fights on
with a million thoughts
cascading, colliding
as they roll,
rock and roll.
When
finally
sleep comes
I am
at last
alone.
Photo by Wonderlane on Flickr
Insomnia by Steve Wheeler was written in Plymouth, England and is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
