As I watch the moon set

A nightwatchman , on his whistle ,blows .
Three sharp notes , high pitched and clear.
Three sharp notes , they reach many a ear .
His footsteps sound in the silence that follows .

I recognized every watchman by his tune .
A skill derived from , what I call , a habit ,
or insomnia as the doctor described it .
In simplest terms I was sleep immune .

I find it hard , lying awake at night .
'cause as lights go out and all other sounds fade.
Memories residing in my head ,
start speaking aloud and provide me with sight .

I see a little boy hold his father's hand
and rest assured he'd never lose his way.
I seek such assurance but try as I may ,
I find none in this unknown place I stand .

I see a little boy , making merry in the rain ,
or balancing on a narrow wall , unafraid to fall .
Now as then I wish I heard my mother call .
I wish someone would call me home again .

I see times when it took just a paper crown ,
to believe I was the king of all the kings ,
and fairies and dragons and other fantastic things .
A world where it mattered if I gave a smile or frown.

Once again , I struggle , to believe in a wishing tree ,
and make an earnest wish as memories unfurled .
Take me to the time when I controlled a world .
I am so tired of this world controlling me .