The Whiskey Taster’s Flavor Guide

He Still Can'T Sleep, and He Repeats

He beats the calm and beats the feet.
He still can't sleep, and he repeats.
He counts the sheep and counts the farm.
He moves his leg and moves his arm.
He might as well just get up now.
Turn a page and read loud.
He might as well just run around.
In the nude, and stand up proud.
Drive the car or cycle round,
but whats the best? He just wants rest.
He's just so fired, even though he's so damn tired!
What to do with all his thoughts?
He still can't sleep, and he repeats.
Until its dawn and.... Yawn.
He's gone.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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Hoffman Avatar
April 25, 2016 at 9:16 PM
I can certainly relate to the insomniac in this poem! It's terrible that your up all night and then when its morning you finally conk out!:) Nice poem and humorous too!
Tomlin Avatar
April 26, 2016 at 1:29 AM
Thanks. I wrote it last night while trying to sleep
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The Whiskey Taster’s Flavor Guide
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace