I sing myself to sleep. My favorite songs touch my compassion. Night sinks. Tears rise.
I count myself to sleep. Continual numbers fall dead-beat, into infinite.
I hold myself to sleep. My old loneliness. My bony body. So rugged. Sleep can't arrive.
Morning's been ripe.
I need death to compensate for sleepless nights.
I do this sometimes too.. Great work Dan
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice word revealing your downheartedness....May you sleep well.......Be happy......