Ideas stream inside my mind,
The purposed ones-
They retain pride.
Never, no, no never die.
Barricaded by the sheets
Upon my mattress, intention sleeps.
Caffeine laughing from upstairs,
Knowing it’s it I want to share
This morning of when intention becomes aware.
Quite the scare, ambition’s flare, up-shooting through my mind,
No longer impaired by morning’s wearing sag beneath the eyes.
Here it comes, my powdered prize- Caffeine truly is what pries
Me from this drifting shift of mind.
Behind, the outstretched skeletal hands of sleep hide,
Crackling, smacking, tracking my motion.
What devotion, sleep, as combatting with caffeine,
Like a potion to drench what’d otherwise be ambition.
I don’t listen. I position myself to this mission.
I walk up the creaky steps for what it is I’m wishing,
Collisions with neurons will be what will turn on
My psychology knowledge for future not yet stepped upon.
My arms feel weighted, yet upstairs I trod,
Trying to deplete my lousiest thoughts.
Caffeine, I’m here.
Beyond the cabinet, you appear.
Fear no longer resides in my being;
For now, being the being I truly wish to be,
This morning will seem more of a memory, a reverie.