It’s 3 AM and I still can’t sleep for

All these thoughts running through my head—

And I do mean running—

I can’t pin them down.

All the whys and how-comes of some time before

Pay me a visit when all I want

Is sleep, and nothing more.

–That’s right, sleep, and nothing more.

Instead, here I lay, at the mercy of my own mind,

Not a topic left untouched or a stone unturned.

Everything comes to me now,

Like Scrooge’s ghosts in the night—

Except he only had three.

I have a whole platoon, or maybe more,

That nightly visit me.

               –Every night they visit me.

First is usually one of Life’s many mysteries,

Every night a different one to try and unravel,

Though some do make a reprise appearance.

For example: Everything is temporary—

The good, the bad, the ugly, and more,

Yet why do we hold on so tightly for so long

That our hands become so raw and sore?

               –So very, very raw and sore?

Then maybe it moves to more personal ghosts,

My own personal demons, with me for years,

My old friends—my Mephistos,

Here to teach me another lesson—

Life’s not fair, and it’s not long.

No one lives forever! Who wants to live forever?

Think of the old Queen song!

               –Sing it, that sad, sad song.

Trigger next: the Past, Present, Future.

Grandma, 62 – too young to die, but some don’t make it that far.

Mom, 51 – only 26 more days until her birthday!

And I never got to say goodbye or I’m sorry.

Next will be, now only 46, my uncle Rich,

And then my sister – younger than me!

Why is Life such a bitch?

               –Such a cold, heartless little bitch?

It’s all a roll of the die, or if you’re lucky, dice;

You either have it or you don’t.

The next ghost to visit me, another friend—

My own mortality and how it may end.

Should I get tested or should I not?

And will it even matter in the long run?

In the end we all die, we all rot.

               –One way or another, we all will rot.

Again and again, over and over the ghosts come,

But the real ghost is not knowing how or why:

How do I turn my mind off? Why can’t I sleep?

What will happen will happen – I can’t stop it,

Whether I like it or not.

So nightly I decide not to dwell on has-beens and might-bes

And make the best with what I got.

               –Make the very damn best with what you got.