I find it difficult to be pleased with what I put down on paper, but nevertheless I’m going to try no matter how hideous it is.
Brain, brain, please shut down,
Your twittering is getting me flustered,
What am I to do, but drown.
Sleep, sleep, it just won’t come,
What am I supposed to do?
I rumble and tumble,
I groan and grumble,
Yet, no way am I numb.
At last I feel drowsy,
I’m shutting down slowly,
Bliss – so heavenly woozy.
Result – not too bad, at least it rhymes. I’ll try again later. It’s a change from writing prose.