This week there came a time, after several nights of insufficient sleep and a few days of not eating enough because I ran out of bread, that I temporarily lost my marbles. I was, evidently, enough in charge of my mind to write a poem (of sorts) to describe the sensation though.
Go to sleep, little elfling, go to sleep.
your tired head is drooping,
your gait is slowly stooping,
your grasp on fine movements is slipping,
and you can barely walk without tripping.
Go and rest, little elfling, go to sleep.
But I can’t sleep, oh, I can’t!
I’m far too hungry to sleep!
My stomach pains would keep me aware,
no matter how long that I lay there,
and I’d lose more hours than I dare,
though just now I’m too tired to care.
So I’m just too hungry too sleep,
too hungry, too tired, I can’t. I can’t!
Then go and eat, little elfling, go and eat.
your aching head is paining,
your stressed body’s complaining,
your little stomach’s sorely aching,
and if it’s keeping you waking,
by all means, little elfling, go and eat!
But what can I eat, oh, what can I eat?
When I’m so tired I can’t think?
What to eat when there’s no bread?
Can’t eat outmeal, that’s for breakfast,
and breakfast is long past, that’s not right.
Can’t eat rice? or tortillas? or something like that…
no that’s all dinner food, and it’s not yet night.
Besides all that takes time to prepare,
and time is so precious, and I’m not all there.
I’m too tired to think, to cook, to eat!
I’m so tired, and stressed, and hungry!
I’m too tired to think, too tired to eat!
Soon after I went and got groceries.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
A Moment of Distress
The Brain-child of
Rebecca
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3 comments:
I like it. I'm not sure writing poetry is the most efficient way of dealing with your dual problems of hunger and tiredness, but if you ended up at the grocery store, maybe it was.
Wonderful! It's so accurate how the mind works when you are stressed and short on sleep and food. Very nice job Elfling.
Thank you Cindy, and Rissa. Yeah, I was kind of laughing at myself for wasting time writing about my predicament instead of doing something about it, but it was fun, and exactly what I felt like. In fact, I only wrote the poem because I started complaining in rhyme before I even decided I wanted to write a poem.
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