Losing sleep : BST
¶ 1
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when the clocks go forward …
I wish I could go back in time
that I was still a player
and not just a jouster with rhyme
¶ 2
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an annual event
every year’s the same
the clocks advance an hour
and some are late for the game
¶ 3
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and one year, that was yours truly
oh the horror! the shame!
to miss even a minutes football –
pure sacrilege – and only me to blame
¶ 4
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it peturbed me, throughout my career
the memory of it, used to bring haunting dreams
but time has rolled too far forward
and now I wake, to another generation’s screams
¶ 5
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I don’t play anymore.
Can’t. Body’s given up on me, though I have the will.
And the nightmares have stopped.
But I wish I had them still.
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