If there was one thing in the world that I could do right,
It would be to sleep.
It is the one thing that lacks favour in me.
Seriously I only get one to four hours of sleep per night.
Why does sleep evade me so,
That is a question to which I want the answer for.
It is the waking hour of my brain,
The disease in that ridiculed brain of mine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
brilliant! i always love poems about insomnia