Poem -
Drops
Throughout the night
while you can't sleep,
when your mind is weary
and your hands are weak,
where the absence of dreams
brings forth daylight,
while you sit here and wonder,
with nothing to write.
There at the table,
right next to your bed,
on the sheet of the paper,
the ink has been shed.
Support CosmoFunnel.com
You can help support the upkeep of CosmoFunnel.com via PayPal.
Comments
A perfect description of insomnia. Very much enjoyed reading x