Farewell to Sleep

What have I done?

I'm wide awake.


Sleep used to visit at nine

and stay until morning light.

But now,

Sleep only visits in catnaps and quick winks.


It's three am--

I'm trying to sleep,

but all that comes to mind

are distant memories--

some fun, but mostly painful.

All I can think about

is how time is slipping by,

and I can't stop it from going.


I watch the clock spin

waiting for the sun to rise

so that I can start a new day--

new tasks to complete,

new memories to make,

but the same burdens to bear. 


What did I do

to make the night

fare me well

and walk away,

never to be seen?

This poem is about: 


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