When I am fully awake,

Sleep bereft,

Eyes left seeking

The dreams that passed.

My body feels as if it is held together

With rusty safety pins

And old shoelaces,

Stolen while walking in another's shoes.

I force myself to leave the warmth

Of my dishevelled bed

And head toward

My coffee anaesthetic.

My creative screen

Is buried in words

Now long forgotten,

Meaningless and useless.

The sun is absent,

As is my enthusiasm

For what will surely be,

Just another day.

                             _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Owain Glyn