Poetry: At Night I Sit in Creative Writing

At Night I Sit
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At night I sit
With mind astill.
Hazy-eyed gazing
Into my own will.

My day collapses down
To the state known as rest.
I pick out the memories
That will dream out best.

With sounds in my head
Getting muffled through my ears.
Scary are things drown out
And labeled as fears.

My body winds down
And cells go to sleep.
I hear the girl downstairs
Steadily weep.

I don’t know who she is
Or why she cries so much;
But I hear her faint cries
As she tries to keep it hushed.

© 2001, Joe Jenkins