Black Monday Moon

Your day's unceremoniously ground to a halt and
you're not staying awake but you
can't find the nerve to fall asleep so
you look at the ceiling of your eyelids
praying for relief in the form of
an intervention or mystery
or visions of the good things
you're supposed to be thinking
when you've got nothing else to do
but count your winks and blinks and
numbers aren't your strongest suit
but you're too spent for water or
a run around the bedposts
and maybe just maybe there's
a sandman on the moon who'll
throw some magic dust your way
and the next thing you know it'll
be time in the morning for you to
say thanks for the rest and I'll
try to do my best me today see
it was all because I prayed
on the black Monday moon that
only comes out every night I'm
stuck in the sheets of another
long day ended by a longer time
of insomnia and preludes to
dreams that never come true
and fears of stress that lie undue
with the reality of another day
that'll probably end against the same
wishes among the dust in my eyes
speckling the night in my eyelid skies
as clouds circle and cover my
every night black Monday moon so high.