I've Been Tired

A poem about how I really want and value sleep.

Really, it's just a thing.
I've been tired,
Been trying for peace.
It's been murder,
Please... a wink.
But I toss and I'll turn.
So instead, I'll ponder the ceiling
I'll write and we'll see
Here's my Ode to Dreams

You'll find little sanctuary
in an oasis market place.
If you'll linger in the heat
take a chance and look around;
I pray you'll glance
at the most beautiful thief
you'll ever see,
purchasing crumbled love letters
from the age old fortune teller.
Here comes the Prince of Palms
he'll sing to the trees
pleading for just a little shade.
At the Fountain of Youth,
There's a crowd of gods
Arguing the Fates
Who's heaven they'll lose.

What I hold closest from my dreams
There isn't clocks or time,
No boys or beautiful little girls.
Just souls of memories and mystics,
Ebony chess pieces and books of pearl.
Brick walls are canvases for murals;
The dark alleys they're in
Is the inspiration.
So let me wink
Close my eyes for sleep.
I want to see
If my beautiful thief
Left a little something for me