Posted in Poetry

Indirect Insomnia

Insomnia affects me indirectly.
It’s my dad who is really
the sleep deprived junkie.
He calls me
he presses me
he cheats me of life
of all the things I’d rather be doing
it’s always such great strife.

And yet it’s funny
for he does sleep
I watched him with my eyes
I heard him snore
and twas no chore
until he woke and said
I didn’t sleep again.



A creative nut with endless possibilities to offer the world. Just need to start with one possibility - my words.

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