THE INSOMNIAC AT 3.53 a.m.

I wrote this a couple of years ago. No, I don’t sleep as well as I should. J

Tonight (or early dawn) the stars

Cut through my dreams like iron bars.

Before the moon’s pale light is fled

I slumber (fitful) in my bed

My dreams are tigers in a cage

Roaring oaths of righteous rage

Bound by the heavy steel of strife

My dreams are not allowed their life.

How can I dream when (come the dawn)

My soul will from its rest be torn?

I have to travel far away;

My heartbeat troubles me today;

I may be dying (well I might)

Who could have peace in such a night?

My thoughts turn round about and then

They turn and travel back again.

A private monologue (or worse

An endless spiel of tragic verse)

I hear, from far away, the roars

My tigers gnawing on their paws.

Tonight, my thoughts are iron bars

Like silhouettes against the stars.