Now that evening has settled in,
there I lay in bed—again.
Ideas bombarding me with whispered words.
All talking amongst themselves with no real purpose.
“Please let me sleep!”, I ask—thinking out loud.
Even my mental plea got lost in the crowd.
Opening my eyes, I can still see darkness.
The only thing I can do is lay there in paralysis.
“Am I alive? Or is this just a dream?!”
“OF COURSE YOU’RE ALIVE YOU NITWIT!”
“Hey! You don’t have to be mean!”
“IS THE COFFEE POT ON?
YOU SHOULD PROBABLY CHECK IT…yeah, but it’s too far.“
These voices ramble, on and on.
Freeing myself with a tiresome stretch,
And what do you know?
The coffee pot was turned off…