The day grows old as the sun disappears,
The air becomes cold and the light turns to dark,
The children sleep and dreams are near,
No voices are heard, not a chirp, not a bark.

But I am not sleeping at night,
For the silence is not what I hear.
I hear the voices, I see the light,
I cannot find peace in the peace of the night.

The world is at rest, but my mind is awake,
the thoughts rush in, with my sleep at stake
I sit, awake, thinking. 
Thinking,
Why I can't stop thinking.

  Thinking why I can't be like everyone else in the world,
and allow the tranquil quiet of the night to lull me to sleep .
I clear my mind of deadlines and expectations,
of hopes, dreams, and aspirations,
but it soon returns to it’s anxious state;
Crowded with the worries of the night
And the troubles of the day.

My mind and I are in a constant fight;
The battles in the day cause a war at night.
One day I will be able to sleep
To calm my mind and count the sheep.

But for now I lay in troubled unrest,
My mind not calm, and the sheep protest.
And as the day grows old and the sun disappears,
When I will get to sleep remains unclear.