Journal

Insomniac's Journal

Words birthed in the internal

His subconscious' dunk-tank

These words remained unranked

Articulate the contemplations

Of these waking frustrations

Pen in hand

Sleep be damned

These are the greatest thoughts in the land

But why do they come at 4 in the morning

Must write them down

And heed the warning

His memory won't serve him as well when he wakes

If only he knew what was at stake

Words, Words, and more still left to come

Cannot stop till he sees the sun

Sunken eyes

Blood shot red

Sleep finally comes to the walking dead

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Cinderella

Twelve O' Clock
Tick-tock, Tick-tock
Cinderella it's time to stop
Dancing with, Mr. Prince Charming
It's sudden and, oh so alarming

Prepare for disaster
Meet with the master
Do your best and try to outlast her
Only then can change your fate
This showdown should be a piece of cake

Once this is done
You can dance until one
Midnight won't be when you come undone
This is me sending my best wishes
Cinderella stop doing the dishes
I hope for you good days and laughter
Please enjoy your happily ever after
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