I want to ride, but outside its too damn cold,
I don’t like to walk all that much,
I need to use my cane, guess I am just getting too damn old,
As the cane to me feels like a bloody crutch…

It’s beautifully sunny today with a bright blue sky,
But still I sleep very late and have to ask myself why,
Sure, I don’t get to bed till sometimes six in the am,
Awaking after noon & still feeling tired do I…

If I go to bed early, I toss & turn and fail to rest,
I am so addicted to my drug that I cannot be less stressed,
I want to be on it, I want to be with it and it with me,
What else can I do, this addiction is quite real,
While it may not harm me per se,
It still calls to me & does try to of my sleep, steal…

Drawn to its relaxing light,
Its little box does give me a place to be,
From sleep & dreams to it I flee,
If I don’t of it receive I seem to howl like a banshee…

Without it I feel like an amputee,
Cut off; a part of my soul,
To stop using it has been my goal,
But the more I use it the more of it I need,
I am absolutely addicted to this my computer,
Maybe I need an intervention, a therapy…
© -ed- 2/11/15