It’s been a restless two hours with no sleep in sight <br />Sleep is not what I do best at night <br />As I toss and turn, thoughts are scrambled in my head <br />Underneath my pillow, underneath my bed <br />Hiding with those demons that leave no receipts <br /> I slowly rise, leaving an impression on the sheets <br />Of a forgotten and unfinished dream <br />And unfulfilled desires to the extreme <br />I reach for my note pad and pencil on the night stand <br />They waiting patiently as if I had a plan <br />I knock over my glasses disrupting my train of thought <br />Trying to remember what I already forgot <br />Carefully I tiptoe like a cat burglar for it’s’ prize <br />Shadow boxing with the cobwebs in my eyes <br />My pupils adjust to the dark <br />Being careful they don’t miss their mark <br />As I evade obstacles carelessly tossed aside <br />Soiled clothing trying not to hide <br />I’ve collected pathos everyone ignores <br />As I leave the room from a symphony of snores <br />I settle on the edge of a danger zone <br />I seek refuge on a porcelain throne <br />As if I didn’t owe any dowry debts <br />In my thinker’s pose I attempt to rescue sonnets <br />That repeatedly circled my crowded brain <br />Colliding with every unreasonable refrain <br />Why do these words refuse to sleep <br />Are they afraid of the dark and the deep <br />Why can’t they be like ordinary verse <br />Will 2 AM always be my curse<br /><br />Alfred Ramos<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/2-am-2/
