The clock read five
she grabbed her things
and headed outside
she hates to count the time
down to the wire – but
She’s tired

The timer rang
and the door to the oven
was slammed with a bang
with a grunt of distaste
she turned off the fire
she’s tired

The clock struck nine
she stared as she took
the last sip of her wine
in an hour she knew
it’d be time to retire – but
She’s tired

She watched the digital numbers
and it seemed that as far back
as she could remember
very little sleep
interrupted the night…

The alarm blared
into the darkness,
she blankly stared
and a tear fell
away from her eye
She’s tired

¬© L. Rose (mid 90’s)

(Finally back to the scattered notebooks) – I have an intimate relationship with the¬†affliction of insomnia. It’s not so bad now as it was once, but it still sneaks in and punches me in the nose on occasion. This was written at one of those times. ~ Linda

Get those peeps closed, and get some shut-eye! – Thanks for reading.