Zero three thirty eight

Zero three thirty eight


The pitch of black now turning grey
With each and every blink
The strength of sound incredible
A droplet hits the sink
The clock that seems so motionless
Displays the saddened state
The middle gone, the early here
But still, I’d say it’s late
The solitude of sleeplessness
Whilst you’ve all gone away
To play inside your dream filled minds
Where night turns into day
My pillow is a sunken debt
This mattress full of hate
I’m far too hot but then I’m cold
I’ve three more hours to wait
Oh please, oh please, just let me sleep
Those thoughts just make it worse
As now I’m wrapped in itchiness
I hate the night time curse

©KarlTearney