Sleepless Poem by Michael DeVries
Sleepless
I am lying here prone
thinking in my bed all alone.
I strain for sleep but it allows me not into its fold
so I lie awake here, wondering, in the cold
Do I tremble at this day that will arrive,
do I fear I shall not feel alive?
Am I afraid that this time, this day, my strength will flag,
or is this still just jet lag?
Friday, September 7, 2007
Topic(s) of this poem: sleep,strength
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8/28/2026 11:20:38 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
