Poetry Friday: Insomnia & Boundaries

Introduction to Poetry Friday for November 15th, 2019.

Usually, my poems do not rhyme. I am very comfortable with that and often surprise the school children I’ve worked with on poetry when I tell them that poetry does not have to rhyme.  But, the other night, while lying in bed, wide awake for two hours, I started a poem about insomnia – and at 2:30 in the morning, the poem just happened to rhyme. The first four stanzas are what I wrote while awake, finishing the remainder this morning.  I’ve written on insomnia before, so this is just another addition to that subject.

The second poem I offer is about being brave enough to be a non-conformist, to not live in the box, but rather be successful living outside of it. I hope you enjoy both offerings today, Poetry Friday! For more poetry, please go to Michelle Barne’s Blog named Today’s Little Diddy where this week’s Poetry Friday Roundup is being hosted!

Insomnia

Oh, insomnia, my old friend,

you’re back to visit me again.

I hope you do not stay too long,

for I really cannot stand your type of song.

Anxiety rides your coattails, too.

Just as I think my worries are few.

My slumber becomes burdened by what I cannot change.

But, I find myself climbing a whole mountain range.

Your arrival always comes in the wee dark hours,

when I should be dreaming of planting my flowers.

Alas, I cannot seem to keep you at bay,

fortunately, for me, long you do not stay.

I know in a night or two, you’ll tire of my resistant ways

and travel onward to another person who lays

Awake in the deep dark night,

ruminating about things that might cause fright.

Oh, insomnia, my old friend,

I wish you find no one and hope your travels will end.

Boundaries

Do you find yourself in a box?

How to get out you ponder as you eat your lox.

The box fits fewer than one might think,

Not everyone is the same, but that thought causes some stink.

To think we have different needs and ways,

causes work for some that make their nails fray.

To get out of the box, some must shut down

as in a restrictive space, one cannot crown,

the joy of their unique existence, and live their life unbound.

For out of the box, wings can be found,

to fly with the eagles instead of crawling on the ground.

The box has limits for all those who stay,

Close to its boundaries and do not stray.

But for those who choose to not be boxed in

your life can unfold and rise above the din.

So, I hope you do not find yourself in a box

because if you do you’ll have to find the key to its locks.

The key is in you and nobody else, only you can crosse the boundaries

that will set you free. Out of the box is where you are meant to be.