I'm lying in bed at midnight,
glancing around the room,
wondering if I'm ever
going to fall asleep tonight.

It's half past one in the morning,
and I can just see the moon,
glowing at me through the blinds
from the vast and darkened sky.

It's half past two now,
and the clouds are starting to loom
way overhead, glaring at me
and hiding the stars from my eyes.

It's almost five now,
and the birds will be out soon
chirping with annoying smugness
because they've been asleep all this time.

It's half past six in the morning,
and the first ominous beams of gloom
for me, are appearing, as the scarlet
rays of the sun dance on the horizon.

So it's come to this
it's nine now, getting closer to the afternoon
and I curse the singing voices
of those children skipping outside the window
they're doing it deliberately, I'm sure,
they know how tired I am, they do.

I hate the vicious morning sky,
in it's perfect blue disguise,
pretending that it doesn't know,
as I shut my jealous eyes.