It's after midnight,
Three things are lurking
In the house: Insomnia, stress,
And migraines-nothing was working.
Mom and I are both up,
Neither of us can sleep.
We sit and talk as we wait
For the hot tea to steep.
We can't shut off our minds
From pondering our problems.
And my migraine tonight
Is a real gem.
We sit up and quietly talk
About everything.
While I write this poem,
The effect is somehow calming.
This isn't the first night this has
Happened, and I'm sure it's not the last.
We'll be tired in the morning--and hopefully
The stress and pain will have passed.
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