Stayed up all night trying to write
I still can’t get you out of my head
Sleep didn’t come easy this night
Giving anything to only go to bed
The clock ticks past two & three
Knowing there’s nothing I’m going to find
Off dreaming of nothing, where I want to be
Another scotch to still my racing mind
Image by Florian Pircher from Pixabay
Setting down the glass
Saying excuse me, dear
Wanting to focus
Making sure what I hear
Each word considered
Looking deep into your face
But I forget them all
When you’re only wearing lace
You’re a questionable soul
Lying in the Captain’s brig
After drinking his scotch
& wearing his wife’s wig
Definitely conduct unbecoming
Her voice sounding the alarm
The man knows your name now
Surely you’ll swing from the yardarm
Captain Q 