This night, sleep eludes me.
I am like the night owl, alert.
My mind filled with worries.
I hear my Mum, awake like me.
Thus, night sleep won’t come.
Eyelids heavy, the mind wanders.
The day’s worries play their song.
Night stretches on, sleepless.
This night, I tossed and turned.
I stretch my limbs, yawning.
I fluff my pillows, yawning again.
Yet, sleep is but a lost dream.
This night, I walk the floor.
For reality didn’t enter dreams.
Is there a point in counting sheep?
If only, I could dream this night away.
This night, a nightmare so often.
For sleep is but a dream, eluding.
Like a night watchman on guard.
I walk the night, my Mum moans.
By C.E. Pereira