Here it is, 5 a.m. and I have been,
awake for hours.
Perhaps, I can write the words,
rattling around, in my head
and so, I'll make an effort,
to remove all the dread,
of ever being able to sleep,
for more than 2 hours,
in my warm, comfy bed.
Sleeping in my recliner,
is not a problem
as attested by my wife.
Switching to another page,
as I feel these many words,
trying to escape to paper.

Every time I look
Into a mirror,
I ask myself, what
Are you doing here?
You're blonde hair,
Is white as snow.
You're all dressed up
But no place to go.

Down the step,
Behind the chair,
There is something hidden,
I am unaware.
A small confusion,
Some think is there.
Try not to startle,
Move with care,
Discover the Cat's
Newest lair.
This old cat
Is silent now.
No extra noise,
Just a meow.

I believe my Soul has died
And the remnants are locked inside,
My heart and chest, although I tried
To be the person you wanted.
Now I'm a wreck and broken hearted.
Pure dribble I say to all
You aren't seeing my worst at all.