The effect of staying up to late

It has been a good while since I have written anything resembling a poem, so I will post the discalimer again. I am not a poet (and I am fine with that, because on the rare instance I write poetry it is to clear my mind not to make something artsy). Thus, if you consider yourself poet you probably should quit reading because my structure/word use/ general poetic imcopetence will probably make you shiver

I am a desert flower
Longing for a reviving shower
Covered in dust
lonely on a great plain
afraid to rust
griping to al that is sane

I am a desert flower
seeking redemptive power
covered by truth
loong hot days and cold nights
afraid of lost youth
trying to keep the good fights

I am a desert flower
streching to be an ivory tower.