PoemInsomniac
Author / PoetMaya Angelou
TagsNight, Painful, Pride

There are some nights when
sleep plays coy,
aloof and disdainful.
And all the wiles
that I employ to win
its service to my side
are useless as wounded pride,
and much more painful.

Maya Angelou
Maya Angelou
4 Apr 1928 - 28 May 2014
Region: North America
Period: Contemporary
Movement: Black Arts Movement
Awards: Grammy Awards, National Medal of Arts, Presidential Medal of Freedom

more poems by Maya Angelou

Poem NameTopic
The Week of DianaColor, Crown, Humor
The Rock Cries Out To Us TodayDarkness, Destiny, Floor
The TravellerHome, Night, Store
The Black Family PledgeAncestor, Children, Cry
When I Think About MyselfFolk, Joke, Lying
When Great Trees FallBloom, Die, Fall
We Had HimMoon, Style, Summer
They Went HomeHip, Home, Lip
These Yet To Be United StatesAnger, Curse, Fear
Son to MotherIgnorance, Land, Soul

all poems by Maya Angelou

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