Going Without Sleep Poem by James McLain

The dark and breath, looking down,
who am I to see them now or looking up,
I see them now for what their worth.

From birth to death, without peace, I have never lived without abuse and by the way, father dear,
the nature of psychology is, is not the gift they thought it was.

In passing now I can't conceive the you or me, but all I've seen and where I've been, like the trash we are, nor power be,
the sleep we need but never get the peace I seek in only death by those whom know but can't forget