The Insomniac’s Lament

 This poem won't make proper sense unless you've read the story behind it. Go to The Bald Naked Guy In The Room Next Door

The Insomniac’s Lament

If I could live my life again and know what I know now

I would not do some of the things that brought me shame somehow

If I could turn the clock hands back and make all things come right

I would surely change the memory that was given me that night

When I, alone in a foreign land, did ponder how unsightly

it was to have, on full display, my private tidy whities!

As hotels go, mine was the best, I really could find no fault

That is to say, if you disregard the massive clothing vault

The room was clean, as clean could be, the linen white as white

The carpet plush and welcoming, the curtains dark as night

Indeed all things considered, I could not have asked for more

except for one tiny little thing – the cupboard had no door.

Now some would say, “Just let it go, it really doesn’t matter”

But tell that to an insomniac whose nerves are all a-shatter

I’d tossed and turned from ten pm, awake the whole night through

I’d watched the clock pass through the hours of twelve then one then two

Finally at three am when sleep had still not come

I found myself sitting on the throne lamenting my sore bum

I’d counted every ceramic tile upon the walls and floor

I’d calculated the distance from the bath tub to the door

I’d experimented with the sound control that piped the music through

And thought about using toilet paper to polish my dusty shoes

When it came to me out of nowhere, hit me like a well aimed brick

The panel wasn’t a panel at all; I really had been thick

Anxious to close that gaping cave I wiped my bum and flushed

No noise did stir the corridors the hotel was quiet and hushed

I stood before the looming frame to see if I was right

Then braced my legs on either side and pushed with all my might

It moved a bit, and then again and then again some more

But to my horror light shone through – it was a flaming door.

Oh no, oh no, it cannot be I’ve really done it now

I should have left it all alone, and sweat came from my brow

The neighbour’s going to wake for sure and scream till he’s fit to bust

I’ll be arrested and charged and I’ll be tried and in a gaol I’ll rust

But hang on there, don’t panic yet, perhaps not all is lost

Maybe you can push it closed without there being a cost

So I pushed and pushed and heaved and shoved as hard as hard could be

But it wouldn’t budge a tiny bit it felt just like a tree.

 So I paused a bit and thought about the plight that I was in

And told myself to think about the ways that I could win

It came to me quite suddenly, quite unexpectedly

There’s something blocking its path I said, that’s what it has to be

So I made my way to the neighbour’s door no longer being cautious

And as I stepped into the light I felt confident and joyous

But then all joy was cast aside and I shat myself fair quick

For there was the neighbour, fat and bald displaying his ugly prick

OH NOOOOO I screamed as I leaped from him in fear and mighty fright

Only to realise, as I did, it was I I’d seen that night

Now since that day I’ve thanked the stars that I was not undone

And I’ve taught myself to think things through, to walk before I run

And time will come and time will go but memory remains

Of the night I stood with all to bare and created that awful shame

And if I could, then I’d change things now to put my mind to rights

And nothing would ever make me think of the horror of that night

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