Melancholic Insomnia

At dawn, at dawn, I look out my window,

To the horizon, a shine building to a crescendo,

Of the sun that floods my room,

This dawn I avoid sleep,

It feels the night had me confined,

When my childhood and reality collide,

When reality has become difficult to understand,

I command change, in a sleight of hand,

for the unseen pain that I cannot stand, 

I frame these thoughts, as I see quite melancholy

To the rhythmic flow of time, of which I can never decipher

As I dispute myself, and negate my conflict

As I encrypt, this script of life.

Author's Note

I'm new to poetry, so please take it easy on me!