Sleepless.

I try to sleep

By counting sheep,

One two four

A few dozen more

And off I doze

Off to bed

At once;

For once it’s early, and,

Early will I rise

Fresh, like bread.

I feel

Like Jesus

To resurrect and heal

Miseries of all kinds.

But I can’t.

Wakefulness greets me.

Sleep, my lover

Has been torn apart

As if a part of me has died,

But I am alive,

Up and running in fields of tomorrow

So that I can go and bury my sorrow

But I can’t.

I can’t escape the tyranny

That these omens

Have lashed upon

My eyes on the inside.

These visions

That I create

Create what I can’t see.

Or maybe I don’t want to face,

That face which I run from.

Run away, far away,

So that I cannot be caught.

I dig a hole

Sixty feet deep

For sorrows and miseries, old

That lie in a heap, tenfold

That load

Is about to implode.

I have to hurry,

As the chase with reality’s clock,

Is a race I’m destined to lose.

I prepare to fall from an unfathomable

Distance on to my bed

Pick up from where I left yesterday

Until I start over again

At the end of today,

To chase a new dream.