Sleep won’t come and my mind’s on fire.
Each mistake replayed and everything feels dire.
A worry for every assignment, a worry for every chore.
They make me question my own judgment,
and it’s exasperating me to the core.
Avoid caffeine and let things go,
some Namaste and still my restless mind is my foe.
Make a list and count those sheep,
still the morning comes with very little sleep.
My problems are small I say again and again,
still they wash over me like an unwanted friend.
I search for balance and a simple life,
but still I stress and am full of strife.
Pick a path and make it mine,
but which one, I don’t want “just fine”.
Up all night and I am beginning to tire.
Still sleep won’t come cause my mind’s on fire.
The little menehune that sit upon my shelf,
smiling up at me trying to remind me to laugh at my self.
They used to sit among the clowns,
always calling me to get them down.
Smiling big with a crinkle near their eyes,
They remind me of better days and always sunny skies.
Across the great Pacific to our tiny town,
so exotic I never wanted to put them down.
A tchotchke to some, but a memory I will always treasure.
You see they belonged to my grandmother and will forever bring me pleasure.
It’s a small world full of friends I haven’t met.
A smile and hello could lead to things I never dreamt.
I’ve gotta get out of the house and remove my shell.
Most people are friendly and won’t cast an evil spell.
I sit on my octopus bench and watch my little slice of the world go by.
Why did it take so long to stop, rest and wonder at the sky.
A mother and daughter stride around the light pole.
The red-haired girl takes her pink tailed pooch on a stroll.
A cheese puff from the Peddler and coffee in my hand.
Nothing could make this day better, but a visit with a new friend.
A light breeze blows in and the smell of indian food wafts past my nose.
Store front windows and doors open, including the Compass Rose.
My little village bustles with activity and basks in the sun.
I’ll enjoy this day, relax and smile at everyone.
Those unasked questions with answers never revealed.
Those questions haunt me and now with death forever sealed.
Why didn’t you ask a friend will say.
Because I always thought I’d have a chance another day.
I live with regret and not just a chosen few.
Those unasked questions stunt my life and dim my view.
A better daughter and more faithful friend,
what a different relationship it could have been.
Some chances lost, but other still remain.
So I’ll ask those questions now without refrain.
Yes, I played in the band.
And band geek was my brand.
A solo was my shinning moment,
because I could not sing a single note yet.
Yankee doodle our trio trilled,
and the crowd was pleased and smiled and thrilled.
Scales, cords and rhythms practiced.
Then I had to learn them all again backwards.
Amongst my group of music spastics,
I thought my world was just fantastic.
I played the oboe, the flute and the tenor sax,
it’s no wonder it took me so long to have sex.
I marched in the band with my big drum,
So much excitement I forgot my hat, how dumb.
Music still give me chills and exhilaration,
I miss those days of musical exaltation.
Yes, I played in the band,
and “band geek” is still my brand!
Inspiration interrupted by the work that I must do.
My imagination dashed and now I’m in a stew.
Creativity quashed before the takeoff of its flight.
Will I ever get time to write or is a job my continued plight?
I try to steal away for a minute, an hour or a day;
but working to earn money is always in my way.
Am I too self-indulgent and devoted to my own cause?
If I don’t look out for myself, who will, Rudolph and Santa Claus?
At times no energy, no hope, nor motivation.
I just exist with a hatred of my current vocation.
I need some time to write without interruption.
A little time is all I ask for my sanity’s salvation.
I want and need my quiet time to think and write and be.
A tiny place in the world where I alone am enough and have time wonder, rest and see.
With a few moments to breathe and take care of myself because I am more fragile than I seem.
I worry too much about how I’m seen and what you think and if I came across as mean.
I have never felt I was good enough, even if I appear strong and smart and tough.
I don’t have children and never shall, but I do love kids and your will do nicely if I ever need a pal.
To those I love and those I’m with, I care and give and empathize.
My expectations are so high, it’s no wonder my disappointments are piled to the sky.
A little piece of me is all that’s left, so leave me be, that’s all you get.