And It Plays On

                             Drip- drop- drip-drop, drip-drip-drip-drop,
                             Flop- plop, flop-plop- it just won’t stop.
                             The second hand is keeping time
                             Tick-tock, tick-tock to the drops rhyme.
                             The furnace joins in with its song
                             Of ho-hummm-blow there we go along.
                             The refrigerator joins in
                             Adding a buzzzz that’s not from gin.

                             Sounds of the house pound in my ears,
                             Sounds of drops, clocks and moving gears
                             In the tandem of their pretend
                             Until they all join in the blend.
                             Deafening screams of listening
                             Deny my sleep its christening
                             With heartbeats colliding on me
                             In the chorus of disagree.

                             All of the sounds rapping me up
                             Pouring into an empty cup
                             Like caffeine that’s adding its buzz
                             To a life --- if only it was.
                             They all refuse the sleep I need;
                             The sounds and I cannot concede.
                             Emptiness, filling to the brim,
                             Lays awake waiting for the dim.

                             All sit in the orchestra pit
                             The sounds they emit never quit,
                             As the actors take the mind’s stage,
                             Thoughts mixed with sound start to engage.
                             It’s a play I have seen before,
                             Always performed to the same score
                             On sleepless nights holding contrite
                             And wondering how I lost sight.