Saturday, February 16, 2008

The cliched life of a spoilt insomniac

Trying to sleep
But I can’t

Trying to find myself
But it eludes me

Trying to love myself
But I can’t

Trying to find
A space for myself
It’s a tough world!

Trying not to
Think so much about myself
But I can’t

Trying to stop
Making excuse s for myself
But I can’t

Why this angst
Why this confusion
Why aren’t the answers
Where I thought they would be

What do I want
What am I wanted for
What is the point, the theme, the thrust
Of my story

Trying to shake off
The corsets of doubt

Be the glorious lover
Be the fighter for justice
Set off a new epoch
Of compassion and peace

Be the candle leading out
Of the dark underbellies
Be the dreamer sticking up
Of what could quite possibly be

A good world
Filled with plenty
Of everything
An easy life
For everyone

Like I had
Like I have
What am I moaning for again?

Ah yes.
Still trying to sleep
But I can’t

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