PsyFi

Tick, tick, tick, tick; the clock keeps on a-ticking.
I toss and turn. No use; I just can’t sleep.
My lips are mud, baked by the moon, but licking
Doesn’t help them. Annoyed, I rise and creep
Downstairs to find myself an empty glass
For water… then I hear it. Something moved
Across the hall! I know I heard a crash
But I’m alone and know unless it's proved
Untrue I’ll never get to sleep. I go
To check; it’s just the cat, which I forgot
In my frustration. Well, what do you know!
I leave the cat some tuna mush, then hot-
Foot back upstairs. And yet I won’t be smirking;
Attempts at sleep are now just pantomime
As my imagination keeps on working
Overtime.