The Midst of the Night

In the midst of the night

I might hear the refrain

Of the thoughts that disturb

Oozing out from my brain.

 

And then once they take hold,

I can’t get back to sleep,

As reflections begin

That will pull me down deep.

 

Scenarios beckon

Beyond my control

While anxiety threatens

To swallow me whole.

 

As I struggle to sink

Into slumber again,

I write rhymes in my head

Without paper or pen.

 

In the morning, they’re gone,

Yet I’m left with the curse

Of remembered emotions,

But none of the verse.