The clock ticks,

And the hours go by,

Even though the darkness doesn't abide.

 

You wait for the dawn,

Your eyes red and drawn,

but your mind is a turmoil, 

Reqeusting,

Demanding,

That you stay awake.

 

Thoughts are born anew,

Inventions are being built,

Dreams are being put to sleep,

Something you've yet to manage.

 

And soon dawn mocks you,

As do the cars that run, 

For isn't that what you want to do?

Run away from the bustle and hustle of the city,

So you may sleep until your heart's content?

 

But you shake your head to rid yourself of these thoughts.

You earn nothing,

When you think,

Hopeless things.

 

But, as the day,

Spins by,

And you began to drag your feet,

And feel the strong urge to cry,

You cannot help but dream in your waking hours,

That you'll spend some time sleeping tonight.

And, perhaps, even,

dreaming.

 

Soon, as night draws near,

You lay down, your body cold and deprived,

You hide under the covers,

Layer upon layer.

And, finally,

You fall fast

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