Deep sense of foreboding, an irrational dread,
they’ll be coming tonight as I lay in my bed.
There’s no logic or reason for thinking it’s so
yet convinced I remain, it will happen. I know.
Like so often before I stay prone in the gloom,
restless, considering my foresight of doom.
As the hours crawl by, more frustrated I get
at my self-induced worry, I’ve not been right yet.
I lament my own foolishness, but the feeling won’t shake
and I know now that sleep will not come ‘til day break.