and clothes hang -- limp dishrags;
curtains sag;
walls stick like a half-eaten plum.
I don't rest.
Even when the rain comes
and there's a green smell in the rooms,
things are fine;
not ominous -- divine!
Flowers grow.
I don't rest.
And when the night falls down,
trips in the darkness and stumbles through town,
children nap
but I know adults snap
at each other, at offspring, at life.
I can't sleep.
In a world full of Stepford wives,
who's to know that there aren't lies
hidden behind those Plasticine faces?
Smiles smothered like Smart Balance
and peanut butter in traces.
They suffer underneath.
And the men!
They don't vent.
Lives in the office
Or lives on the farm,
They do no wrong.
They cause no harm.
They must be strong.
And the young ones
are they the fun ones
when their heads are in pillows
cringing at parents' bellows?
They whimper.
And that is why, my dear, I can't sleep.
Spoiler
I hate it when people tell me to "go to bed." I can't just hit the pillow. I have to think first. And sometimes my thoughts are about all the sorrows of the world and all the families who have it worse than I do. It's hard to sleep when you know there are people out there who may not even have a bed to sleep on!
Spoiler
Some of these rhymes won't sound right to some readers because I have an accent. For example "comes" and "rooms"
