not the best

Mind whirring
much too fast
for sleep.
Enclose your mind
between two hands.
The outside
creeps in.
You hope, no,
pray, for sleep
to come.
Sweet release
from reality
into nothing.
Falling hard and
fast, wishing to
never wake.
because when you
do, its all you
can do not to
cry.




admittedly, not the best poem ive ever written. but all of a sudden a black cloud has come over me and all i want is some ice cream and sleep but both seem out of the question.