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Busily Sawing Logs


At nine o'clock last night
My eyes were rolling in my head.
I barely had the energy to
Make it to my bed
To slip between those clean
Cool inviting sheets
And only seconds later
Was hard fast asleep.

Now it's just gone midnight
And I'm determinedly awake,
Just three hour later for
Fornicating Hades sake,
Lying there suffering
An acute pain
From a headache like
A thundering express train

There's an idea for a poem
Gathering there in my brain
If I don't record it soon
It'll drive me insane
I'll have to do it quietly
If and when I do.
Can't risk the wrath of
Waking a sleepimg Sue.

When you suffer insomnia
You suffer on your own
And this bed now feels like
It's lined with hard sharp stone
It's reached three o'clock now
I suppose I must have dozed a bit
But I really don't feel
I've gained any benefit.
 
Five o'clock now
That time I hate
When I'm likely to doze
And end up getting up late.
To wander through the morning
In a sleep deprived haze
Just another of those now
Too frequent days.

Nine o'clock tonight
I'll be sitting in despair
Do I go to bed or
Fall asleep on my chair?
When you suffer from insomnia
It's like life's going to the dogs,
Lying next to a sleeping partner
Who's busily sawing logs.









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