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Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #2100454
It is a poem about how I go throughout the day/night. depressing,maybe? But it is my life.
As I go throughout my day,
Tired, exhausted in every way.
I long to lay my head to rest
But work comes first, nonetheless.

My eyes are heavy from sleepless nights,
As I sit in this room with bright fluorescent lights.
I stare at the screen knowing there’s work to be done
But I don’t have the energy I don’t even want to have fun.

Time continues to slowly pass away.
Finally, I am able to finish my workday.
As I make my way home,
I drive slowly by the Superdome.

I open the door and crawl into bed
Then suddenly all the thoughts come rushing to my head.
I can’t make them stop
The only option, go to the couch and plop.

I’m no longer tired,
And though sleep is what I desired
I know my only choice now is to write.
I will probably sit here all throughout the night.

This is the life of a writer with insomnia.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2100454-My-Curse