Sleep is still knocking at my door,
It’s been knocking since quarter to four,
And out of fear I politely decline.
My finite wisdom tells me I’ll be fine.
Did I design this false world where all is good,
Where all love me as they should,
Where I’m in perfect health,
Where I can reach the highest point of the shelf,
Without assistance or derogation of my power,
Where it may not be my day, but I’m the man of the hour,
The man that will devour all negativity,
Be positively me?
© Akeem Rowe Kingsinister, 2016