Insomnia
Creative Writing - Poetry - Serenity
I lay awake.
Again.
The night,
an unwelcome acquaintance.
I’d rather it were
a mystery.
That I, so lost in dreams,
never got the chance
to know it well.
But the secret sounds,
the particular plays of light,
the exaggerated ticking
of the clock.
They are all as familiar
as the tedious rituals
that daylight brings.