Poems Over Sleep

I never thought, I'd be able to write, a story, or a poem. My teachers seemed to think the same, and i wish that i could show them. Poems seem to come to me, at the most peculiar times, I'm sat up writing, at four AM, thinking of a word that rhymes. My sleep for the night, is non existent, if a poem shall come to mind, I find the nearest pen and paper, to let the ink and paper bind. It's the most awful, and inconvenient time, especially when work is at six, But to read the poem, straight afterwards, gives my sleeping pattern a kick. z z z