Sunrise
Another bus-stop rhyme-doodle. Hadn't been sleeping very well when I wrote it. Still not, really.
I lay w'in the darkness,
trying in vain to sleep
as tiredness makes me weep,
and aches upon me press.
Early to work, late to rise,
toiling away noon to night,
all thoughts by morning, crosswise.
Perhaps this time I'll stay awake
and bask in the first light's rays,
or rest 'til the pain goes away,
and be lulled by soft daybreak.
My gaze shifts to the blinds,
my hands eager to share the light.
Four hours later, I open my eyes.