While you’re at home cuddled in bed with various dreams
Running through your head, I’ll be here awake, with no
Dreams to make because my eyes simply won’t close,
There isn’t a reason, or rather, there isn’t a reason
That anyone knows. And for fear of encouraging
Me to start an addiction my doctor won’t give
Me tablets for this particular affliction so I’ll
Have to stare at the ceiling instead, and lie
In the unloving, distant arms of my cold
Bed and hope that I’ll drift away; that
Perhaps I’ll close my eyes and it will
Suddenly be day, although I doubt
That will be the outcome of
Night number six hundred
And seventy one of lying
Here, counting sheep,
Always unable to
Sleep.
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