Insomniac Chef
1:30am eyes pop open
head quite empty
one thought circles
what to cook?
what to cook?
'shut the hell up brain
give me my space back
it's 1 bloody 30
I need the rest'
the thought sores higher
WHAT TO COOK?
WHAT TO COOK?
leaving no room for an answer
no rest for the chef
so I get up out of bed
and bake bread
Copyright © Cheryle Sanders | Year Posted 2012
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment