Sleep Poem by D. Harris

i collapse in bed under an assumed name
knowing things that i know i never knew 'til today
and i look all around at the place that i lay
and i pray for the memory of the men that ive shamed
i see colorless walls; pitch black ceilings;
a place where a man shouldn't be caught sleeping
and i walk down the hall and wonder where i am
and i know that i'm in the home of no man
i seen em scrawl on the wall
they say there's blood in the street gutter
and though nobody talks they all sure as hell mutter
i seen things that ain't been
and been places unseen
and before we all realize we're staring at a screen
i'd like to take a few moments
before the day ends
and use it to get the little rest that i can
while winds howl and rage
and then quietly change
we can watch from the end of a shooting range
as the men and women
who were sure they were winnin
struggle to survive in the world theyve been given
and we all slow down for the last few days
and wonder where god works to get this kind of pay
and theres dirt in water in the palm of my hand
im losing everything that i didnt understand
and lost in the halls of the home of no man
ive seen things that i know that ill never comprehend
when the moon climbs in the sky
and the wolves suddenly cry
that theyve lost everything so they might as well die
they slept through the season and theyve got nothing left
and they think theyre the victims of a victimless theft
carry bullet proof lawyers that stand up to warriors
and tell themselves things to avoid paranoia
and though ive scrawled on the wall
that theres blood in the street gutter
the thought of it all still makes me shudder