I guess this a poem
Meant to thank you
Because I wouldn't be able to write
If it wasn't for you.

Yet, some nights
You allow me to sleep
But it's never peaceful when
I'm dreaming vivid dreams.

A scene from a book
Just dying to be written
Or another love song about the boy
For whom I am smitten.

Sometimes I ignore you
By pushing you out of my head
Thinking I'll get some rest
But I toss and turn instead.

The words are getting longer
The scene is getting clearer
The melody is getting louder
As the dawn draws nearer.

I can’t control my body
As it moves to stand
And soon I'm at my desk
With a pen in my hand.

My fingers search for paper
And once they find some
I write down all the words
Until there are none.

I force myself back to bed
Vowing not to leave again
But soon you're awake
And taking over my brain.

It's crazy to see what I've written
When I rise with the sun
The words are scattered
Just like the others I've done.

I'm actually surprised
At how beautifully the poem flows
Since the words came together
Just a few hours ago.

I guess it isn't a bad thing
That you never let me sleep
Because I wouldn't be the writer I am
If it weren't for you, My Creativity.