2 Am Poem by Alfred Ramos

It’s been a restless two hours with no sleep in sight
Sleep is not what I do best at night
As I toss and turn, thoughts are scrambled in my head
Underneath my pillow, underneath my bed
Hiding with those demons that leave no receipts
I slowly rise, leaving an impression on the sheets
Of a forgotten and unfinished dream
And unfulfilled desires to the extreme
I reach for my note pad and pencil on the night stand
They waiting patiently as if I had a plan
I knock over my glasses disrupting my train of thought
Trying to remember what I already forgot
Carefully I tiptoe like a cat burglar for it’s’ prize
Shadow boxing with the cobwebs in my eyes
My pupils adjust to the dark
Being careful they don’t miss their mark
As I evade obstacles carelessly tossed aside
Soiled clothing trying not to hide
I’ve collected pathos everyone ignores
As I leave the room from a symphony of snores
I settle on the edge of a danger zone
I seek refuge on a porcelain throne
As if I didn’t owe any dowry debts
In my thinker’s pose I attempt to rescue sonnets
That repeatedly circled my crowded brain
Colliding with every unreasonable refrain
Why do these words refuse to sleep
Are they afraid of the dark and the deep
Why can’t they be like ordinary verse
Will 2 AM always be my curse