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Enemy of Sleep

Green digital dials punish me for staring Threatening The numbers slowly past 3, on to four.... Then some more... vision blurred Words slurred I roll over to take more torture From those green digital numbers Evil beings that they are- Shadows dance turning my wall Into a theatrical scene Of grotesque figures and other Scary things. I roll over to avoid the screaming Green numbers What can I do? I asked.sheepishly. No answer came So i just lay here,.none the wiser green dials still flickering torture.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2014




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Date: 3/14/2014 8:59:00 PM
Great poem, Amy. The torture of sleep that is over before you realize it, deeply expressed, with great imagery through your choice of metaphoric words. Enjoyable overall. Check out some of my poems. Might find some you like. Peace
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