Insomniac Thinking of Life

I can see the glim of lamp street light
Gliding through the brim of the door.
The particular noises of this house
Are familiar to me now;
At three the cars stop passing by,
Every now and then a lost one.

(You’ll hear it go by)

Three pills, one cigarette, one cup:
Yes I’m still awake. Cannot stop
The motor of these brains.

I still don’t understand what I keep
Waiting for?

(in the middle of this endless night, in the middle of this endless bed)

Is it maybe for that one day,
When the first sun light ray
Will pull me out of bed,
Throw me smiling
To the streets, more than awake,
Thinking of simple some-things to be
Transiently thankful for?