The Midst of the Night
In the midst of the night
I might hear the refrain
Of the thoughts that disturb
Oozing out from my brain.
And then once they take hold,
I can’t get back to sleep,
As reflections begin
That will pull me down deep.
Scenarios beckon
Beyond my control
While anxiety threatens
To swallow me whole.
As I struggle to sink
Into slumber again,
I write rhymes in my head
Without paper or pen.
In the morning, they’re gone,
Yet I’m left with the curse
Of remembered emotions,
But none of the verse.
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