A Wasted Life

Stimulation at day keeps them at bay, Constant consuming preventing dismay, But as I lie awake in bed at night, They come to me without a fight. All around are shadows and gloom, With nothing to occupy except my strife, Nothing to do but count down to doom, As I lay there pondering a wasted life, With sleep comes solace and eager rest, In dreams, I enjoy having nothing to say, I jolt awake, now feeling my best, And so I live to squander another day.