Just when you're about to lay down to sleep,
The world sounds a waking cacophony
Of morning business and monotony
Deep in the weeds of fatigue where you reap
What bitter rancors of exhaustion seep
Into the bedroom penal colony:
Two states that join in sick synonymy;
With rest bested, lonesome misery creeps.
Take heart and hold that pillow like it's me;
Know that my return with the evening comes.
Hold on and listen to the rain which drums
Softly on the roof, like the fingers we
Shall drum along each other's sides, this vow
Of eternal love in eternal now.
A place for my poems 