Insomniac Poem, no.89

Time floats by like a catheter.
Drops of thought land on my face
            like snow from a broken ornament.
Hatred burns in my veins like a replicating virus.
My mind tortures me with doubts.

Darkness envelopes the landscape.
Memories destroying my enthusiasm.
Lack of funds equals lack of worth.
My only talent seems to be self-sabotage.

Someday my world will reopen.
Sometime my skills will shine through.
Somehow I'll release the brakes from my soul.
Some night soon I'll sleep.

RC 28-11-23