Insomnia

Tis in the darkness of the night,

On the tear-stained pillow,

I carefully let out those furtive fears.

That lay well hidden form your sight.

My morning face hides well

the pain that my bedsheets read aloud.

I have buried many a todays in sorrow,

in fright of what I may loose tomorrow.

How'd I fare in your eyes I dread

if the sagacious mirage of mine I shed.

So I fight all the battles in my head,

until the moonlit night and my perspicacity,

                                         Both play dead!

Note : A conversation with a young friend who was battling many insecurities, reminded me of mine when I was her age and predicament. That's what prompted this poem.