Oh, these endless nights, how they call to me..
And all the while of whom I think, I long to be with thee.
My cherished one, but my will is weak as I plunder down and down,
T'ward effortless lack of motivation, I wander through this town.
The melancholy sweeps through me, til I'm truly and completely,
Helpless to my wandering, though it be discreetly.
As I lie here, not thinking only feeling,
I wonder where those thoughts went, the ones that left me reeling.
I'm feeling oh so empty, but somehow not so numb,
A feeling just as tasteless as an hourlong piece of gum.
I stare upon the ceiling, for hours upon hours on end,
Trying to remember if this is reality or pretend.
My sanity is sticking, close on the by and by,
I've never felt so normal, not in this absurd life.
How is it so easy to simply think of nothing? It must be just my mind,
Even still the silence reigns,and I suppose I think it's fine.
I disbelieve in trying, I've tried so many times,
To send myself to slumber, all I can do is rhyme.
Be this some sort of punishment? My wishful thinking stirs,
As I'm listening to the sound of the electric as it purrs.
I almost stop to think, to write - to draw - to speak,
I know that I cannot, in fact I dare not squeak.
I can't afford to wake those,
Who should still be asleep.
For now I'll gaze upon this ceiling
And my wishful thinking keep.