When I was younger,
Sleep came easily,
Like an old familiar friend,
Slipping into bed beside me,
Without apology or pretense.
But now I’m older,
Nights are longer,
And my old friend is gone,
Leaving me here
With the ghosts of my passions
In my bedroom all alone.
Tiptoeing around the room,
They whisper
All the words I left unsaid—
Words that click like the beads of a rosary—
As they count up all my sins.
Now in my bed
I search for slumber,
While finding it not at all,
For it’s cruelly evasive—
Like redemption—
And but taunts me in the dawn.
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Outstanding depicting of the physiological psycho-biochemistry of the mechanical function... "Insomnia" has paid its poetic dues.
In admiration,
Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU
--Kathy Kopp
You've expressed it well..
Have a wonderful 2008
Ron
Be safe,
Karen
I think it's because we've grown up and decided we don't need our friend any more, we can handle things on our own...how wrong we are. The ending is particularly effective and thought provoking; well done!
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
I think when we are younger we have more enegy to restore so we seem to sleep longer but as we get older we need less and less sleep. I know this is true for me. It's like having an alarm clock in one's mind which never lets you sleep past a certain hour. I'm a very light sleeper anyway. Had to learn that years ago and it seemed to always stay with me. Sorry to get off the subject of your poem, it just inspired me. Peace, Love and Blessings Always, Paul.
Particularly lately.
Well done.
Axilea