Description: This is about my inside being worn and tired of everyday life. I think everyone can relate to wanting some sleep for their mind. Sleep is almost an escape for me sometimes. See what you can get out of it.
Bed Time Epiphany -------------------------------------------
It's one a.m.
I'm half asleep. I pray my bed, my soul
to keep.
For when mourning comes,
wake my body instead
of my soul that longs for a comfortable bed.
I get sick of waiting
for the hourglass I'm dating,
to let my broken body sleep
because, unconscience,
I no longer weep.
The poem has some spelling errors which I do not care to point out. I liked the idea, that the mind is constantly working and when you wake, your mind screams in agony. It seems as though time is a weight and sleep is a means of procrastination.
Submission Name: Bed Time Epiphany
