A poem

Why am I not in bed?

Why am I not in bed
since Wesley has rested his head?
Why am I not asleep
now that I don't hear a peep?

Why aren't my eyes shut tight
now that Wesley has said good night?
Why am I not dreaming
now that Wesley is no longer screaming?

Perhaps because the tranquility
I find in being with me
is worth the price that I will pay
as I drink coffee throughout the next day.

Of course, come night, I'll take my Tums
and it'll ease the internal drums
and then I'll settle in to bed
and welcome dreams into my head.

And just as I'm about to drift
to the place where time passes swift
I'll sit up and scream and shout
as I work the leg cramps out.

So no wonder I sit and type
instead of saying good night.
For the rest that I would gain
comes from a road paved with pain.

And if you see a way to break
the cycle of symptoms, please take
the time to leave a comment
just don't ask me not to vent.