No Rest For the Wickedly Mind
Nothing left for me to say
Up all night and through the day.
Toil and trouble does seek me out
Riving the rest I miss, no doubt.
If I lay me down to sleep
The wickedly mind begins to creep.
Worries of old some of new
I lose the rest that I was due.
I then begin to compromise, I ask my
Mind to sympathsize
and finally in the end it appears
my wickedly mind gives way.
Without a thought I fall to sleep.
The wickedly mind, loses once again.
Copyright © Ray Zottola | Year Posted 2020
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment