Sleep

Dark eyes convey dark words
Unspoken but well known,
A curse upon one’s sleep.
They tell the friends something’s
Wrong, but no words shall
Be uttered. Warns the workers
It’s not okay, but a smile is all
The response.

Trembling hands and feebled brain
Work hard to make sense of simple
Sentences, which any other day
Would be easy in their sense.
Words are typed, words are spoke,
Each fumbled and lost to a
River rushing over and through
The deep etchings of my brain.
I stare at drugs, loathe to take them
Though they are natural. In five hours
They’ll wear off, but that’s three more
Than I’d otherwise gain.

If only I could escape to my dreams,
But my mind’s too tired to conjure.

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