Is the Night Time the Right Time

They dance around my head at night; trying to steal my sleep; Women I’ve desired, a place I want to be; They sing a song I’ve heard but don’t know; And in the song that they now sing; in my heart fear creeps. The clock continues clicking on; and sleep is yet to come; I’ve tossed and turned; I’ve moaned and sighed; While the dancers laugh incessantly and all begins to twitch; And I fear that I may lose my mind; before this night is done. Staring at the image; that is staring back at me; I depict a painted picture; of a story done in rhymes; And I query with myself; is this required insanity for the form; Or perhaps the form is a by-product; of reason I can’t see. And yes the freaks come out at night; when most slumber; They sing and yell; while they swim throughout my head; Are they trying to prevent the him inside from coming out; They’re trying to prevent him from bringing the thunder. “Insomniac” The melodies of sleeplessness; From face’s filled with sorrow; And eye’s so filled with emptiness; Leave a mixture cooked to tallow. Swaying to the rhythms; Repeating words that haunt; They rob your time of living; And at your misery taunt. And the clock it has its numbers; But is it now or yesterday; And the damage done encumbers; Till you’re screaming go away. Imaginary demons; Concocted in the mind; Perhaps they are the reasons; Why I write these lines.