These are those weird kind of nights
My body tired but mind’s awake
Even when I dim the lights
There’s energy I cannot shake
I might suggest its possible
I just don’t want to sleep
But this need to go
Can leave me feeling like a creep
When the Sandman seeks me out
To answer my desperate call
He’ll linger
Cursing and shouting
“You can’t be helped at all!”
“Not by magic, not by nature.”
“But perhaps, possibly…”
“You may find some relief...”
“In the shelter of chemical sanctuary.”
Not the advice I’d hoped to hear
When nothing seems to work
Just another thing to fear
The thought
“I’ve truly ‘gone berserk’!”
Every night I’m reminded
Of all my defeats
As gravity puts pressure
Upon every single heartbeat
And after all these ups and downs
No wonder I don’t sleep
I’m not standing on level ground
My place is much too steep
The loss of equilibrium
From wars and stormy seas
Waiting for delirium
Enabling disease
Dr. Michael A. Clavarino ©
The Perpetua Scroll - Nearly All-Nighters