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Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #2156043
Yes, Writer's Cramp, I'm not getting enough sleep, but since you asked...
         I punch the pillow, the sheets I kick.
         Feet in, feet out, there's no comfy pick.
         One minute warm, the next ashiver.
         No rest for me will sleep deliver.                
         I toss, I turn, sweet comfort I seek.
         Moments tick by, at the clock I peek.
         How can it be only half past three?
         I stumbled away six times to pee.                   
         I tense my muscles, wriggle my toes.
         Relaxing eludes me, off it goes.
         A drumbeat throbs along my pulse points.
         I moan, I groan, pain gnaws at my joints.              
         Where's the drifting, the floating, the calm?
         I'm shattered by a nerve-tingling bomb.
         I yearn to crash, meet bedtime bliss.
         And yet new morn dawns, still no sleep's kiss.       
         I sigh, I rise, my daze day begins.
         I wobble, trip, rest-deficit wins.
         A fog descends, muffles my vision.
         Slumber spent, I rue sleep's decision. ( 20 lines )
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