The cinema

Each night
When the clock strikes one
The cinema in my mind starts its premier
Flashing pictures after pictures of the past, present and future
Painting abstractions of what maybe
Retrospecting into moments that are no longer part of who I am
Weaving pointless yarns of unresolved thoughts
Into a random collage
The plot thickens and the show still must go on
No sleep till the day is done
Disarming my sleep patterns from the earth that revolves around the sun
I sit in my usual seat in the cinema watching random pictures of my mind
Awaiting the credits to roll so that I can get some sleep and bit this cinema goodnight