The Jester's Armoire

Is it tea time yet?
It feels right.
 
My dream warped when I stepped into it.
An unfinished conversation with the past keeps haunting my night time slumber.
It gave me a glimpse but my damn thought process is foggy, detached, nothing’s crystal clear.  
 
Even the inner mirror cracked when I looked into it, shattering into bits and pieces floating through my mind’s eye as disassociated memories and reflections.  
 
All I want to do is sleep.  
All I want is my slumber.
All I want is renewal.
 
When will any of it ever come to pass?
Will I ever be satisfied?  
 
The jester doll wearing green and purple argyle tights has taken my nights slumber.
Will I ever be able to interpert the jiggling jester and his dangling dreams?
 
Don’t let him catch you retracting his lyrical lies.
His silly little hat has a single bell on it he shakes to keep the sheep jumping.
You know why.
 
But watch yourself, he’s angry.
All his grandest chances have passed him by like the mist of night.
His life is but a dream and he’s still corralling sacred sleep into his pillow stolen from the clouds rising around the moon.
 
Soon it’s time to run along and pick cheeky checkers for his tights.  
You’ll find he hides in the armoire with the harlequin clown.  
There he’ll help him sew the checkers onto his leggings.