The Insomniac In Me

These are the days of endless nights, Where I recount a lifetimes worth of plights. Burned out like a matchstick I find myself, Knowing deep down that it’s bad for my health. But nothing can stop this active mind, Engaged to thoughts of an abstract kind. I dream with my eyes open wide, Dead on my feet - I’m totally fried. Thoughts like an ocean all through the night; If insomnia is the wind, then my thoughts are the kite. I lie in my bed of sleepless dreams, And watch the sun rise slowly in soft beams. I slowly wriggle myself from insomnias clasp, And soon stumble into slumbers sweet grasp. But the battle has only ended for today you see, For every night is endless for the insomniac in me.