Three Hours After Midnight - Poem by Orlando Belo
I was lying awake trying to stop my mind from thought,
but I was losing the fight my attention was caught.
Sleep was the last thing my mind had in store for me.
it intended to saturate my thoughts with creativity.
It mixed words and flowing colours in an extraordinary blend,
slowly then quick, then smooth, then textured, the mix had no end.
None of this made sense; however, for a split second it did,
but the speed of the images made it all short lived.
I couldn't capture or freeze any image and retain it in my mind,
my memory couldn't cope with the instantaneous designs.
The images became chaotic, as I tried to slow everything down.
I thought I'd succeeded, but it only slowed to turn things around.
I became hot and sweaty, and threw back the covers from my bed,
this mental turmoil was having an effect outside my head.
I had to get up to splash cold water over my eyes and face,
I just had to try and stop my thoughts taking place.
Eventually, feeling more relaxed I lay down and closed my eyes.
I was in a light blue sky, with soft white clouds slowly passing slowly by.
Peace and calm had come to a turbulent and unpredictable mind,
my thoughts were pleasant and slower, at last I'd found dream time.
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