Writing a Poem/ Poem

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Oh, it’s time for bed.
 And my mind will flood
 With ideas you see,
 For diving in poetry sea.
  
 Those were my thoughts,
 Rather, are my thoughts?
 Every night while on bed,
 Resting my aching back and head.
  
 I rack my brains,
 To get fresh lines. 
 Break away the reigns,
 I ask my mind, fine.
  
 Writing you know,
 Is like water flow.
 But you should know,
 Where to give that blow.
  
 So, I lie and think,
 And I try to reach the brink,
 Of the poetry sea,
 But the brink, too far to see.

 Then slowly, I drift.
 Worlds in me shift.
 From the one of light,
 Into the one of night.
  
 The day took its toll.
 You see and for all
 The zeal in my chest,
 Decides to take rest.