I’ve looked at the clock.
It’s ten-fifteen
and I should be in bed.
But too many thoughts are wanderin’
inside my tired head.
I hear it tick in the background
and cover up my ears.
Tick away, what do I care?
I’ve lived too many years.
I’ve looked at the clock.
It’s twenty after ten.
And in these past 5 minutes
I’ve thought of you again.
How many minutes
are passing me by?
Much too many
but what care I?
My eyelids are closing
and that’s a good sign.
Maybe I’ll sleep awhile
and leave my thoughts behind.
I’ve looked at the clock.
It’s now half past ten.
I’m so exhausted.
I must lay down this pen.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I've heard of sleep-walking, and sleep-talking, but sleep-writing, now there's a thing! Good poem Edwina