A sigh of despair
I let once more.
My thoughts drive me crazy
They make my head sore.
Sleep deprivation is becoming the norm
Images in abundance like lightning in a storm.
Yawning gets me no place
As I lay restless in my bed.
Thoughts are like a dripping tap
I want to bang my head.
The darkness feeds the silence
It gets louder each waking hour.
I keep drifting back and forth
I feel I have no power.
The need for sleep outweighs so much
It's like water to us all.
To quench my thirst I close my eyes
For that early morning call.
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Comments about this poem (Bed Time by Daniel Murphy )
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
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