Not sure why I sometimes think of something-like poetry when I can't sleep. I don't know how to write good poems, but at this hour of the night who cares?
Words scrawled upon a page,
hazy thoughts, escape their cage.
Freed children, off to play.
Nothing to care, nothing to say.
Sleep, come and cover me;
stop this floating, lost at sea.
Reasons remain cruel and unclear,
dreams don’t live, at least not here.
Insomnia, an unwelcome friend;
you stay with me until the neverend.