sleepless tiredness

I feel so tired
Can hardly keep open
Mind and eyes
My thoughts scattered
Dancing a raging inferno
Questions needing answered
Left to burn
Words unsaid,
Forgetting things learnt

Do you ever have one of those days
You can't be who you want to be,
Or need to be, you don't function
Instead pull the covers up high
And drift away far away
Sleep soundly
Dream profoundly
Cast all thought to the
Filing room of who cares

But still I feel so light and heavy
Unbalanced scales

Sense of moving slowed
Tongue tied up
Thoughts shatter and
Mix to a blended fire ball of
Not allowing sleep

Still I feel so speechless
So lost without shutting my eyes
And pulling up the covers
Not watching the wee small hours

Please can I sleep now?

complicated simplicity

Sitting on the train
My mind begins to wonder
I worry over simple and complicated

My future paths unpaved,
The directing light not
Pointedly lit.

Why I wonder can I no longer cry
Is it fear of my tears turing to rust
Is it fear that my heart and emotions
Now solidifying around me.
Is it that I no longer care

I shake my head in disbelief
Perhaps I tell myself
It is because I have not had a
Worthy cause for tears
Or I am saving them for a
A titanic occassion

My conscience an overbearing sack
Of useless pebbles tells me NO

I have carried this sack for so long
That I have forgotten what each
Pebble resembles
There are a few I feel
Time has not erroded, instead
They remain sharp and jab at my back
Reminders of personal stumbles

Why I wonder is it
I have traded passion for laziness
And sorrow or hunger for weariness
My conscienc says work,
I am unsure...

Surely as a carer, I continue,
I need passion and feeling
To help understand
Or is it that now I am just a
System of analysis for
Every unit I meet.

I guess I will never know,
Perhaps my passion and PA
Will one day return.... one day.

detached observations

Tired of the crowd
The cold hard granite
And thick sliver of artistic glass
Hold my weary weight

Gathering a touch
Of somesort of composition
Slowly silently I watch
A speedy symphony
Of disorder and greed,
My canvas.

"Big issue" I hear
An echo of desparation
With no return, a pound a punnet,
A bunch for two, few will give in
The land locked sirens wail

Dialogue and private chat,
Media and incredulosity,
Some concern and need to dos
Uncontrollable youth and desparation

These are the colours on the canvas

Fear of becoming dizzy
I take from the canvas to the skies
Above these concrete towers are dreams
I ponder the possibility of catching the air
And of riding the clouds

Sadly a mere impossibility
My dreams float up to be
With the clouds and air
It is my curse to live in the chaotic canvas
We call society.