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Sleeplessness           Margaret Driver

Sleep does not come easily.
Thoughts defy it,
Rising fast inside my head,
And out into the night,
Exciting thoughts, of past activities,
And plans for future ventures.
Can I not sleep instead,
And leave the action 'til tomorrow?
I shall be walking 'round, zombie-like,
Too tired to do the things I've planned.
Oh that I could now switch off
And into the deepest slumber slip,
And wake, refreshed, but such a wish is banned
By the great God of Restlessness,
Who's sent to punish me
And, in a sea of sweat, await the morn,
When those around me will be bright, aware
And able, in a hard, fast moving world,
And, as I stumble, they throw out their scorn.
 
 

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