Insomia
In the dawn of this day
My slumber is in dismay
So I arise and listened to music
And found a pen to act like poetic.
I was wondering if I do have a talent
Of being a poet for my life’s a bent
I am thinking if my time and efforts a waste
For I deducted my sleep to make this poem great.
I endured mosquitoes and dawn’s cold breeze
But hearing the song “True Color” gives me a beat
If everyone sees true color this is such a feat
For I don’t need to act great and be a freeze.
Well I guess this is it
For now I don’t have words to fit
My simple poem for the morning
For I have a hard time sleeping.
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