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Night blends to day and day into night,
Yet my world is one of perpetual light.
I hear the world snoring outside my door,
Why oh why can't I sleep, I implore!

The sheep creep around me like dark-eyed raccoons.
Sputtering spirits rise up from lagoons.
My eyes are chafed raw with an awful friction,
But still sleep escapes me in this wakeful prison!

Swimming in chamomile tea doesn't work,

Neither does Dr. Phil's remedy (what a jerk).
I gave up the ghost and just stare at the ceiling,
Making faces of patterns that give life a new meaning.

The sheep march around me like woolly platoons.
Chattering spirits carry bouncing balloons.
My head is swirling with radiant visions,
But still sleep escapes me in this wakeful prison!

What I'd give for a night of sweet peaceful sleep,
But the sandman's on strike; he's a real creep.
I tried warm milk, even stood on my head,
But I'm beginning to think I'll only sleep when I'm dead.

The sheep dance around me and baa like buffoons.
Glittering spirits swoop and swoon.
Unconsciousness is my blissful mission,
But still sleep escapes me in this wakeful prison!

Elixirs and potions and bottles of pills,
Don't bring me sleep, they just cause me chills.
The bedroom mocks me and my bed is worse.
It no longer pleases, but reminds me I'm cursed!

The sheep prance around me like laughing cartoons.
Chortling spirits waltz by with goons.
Unconsciousness is my blissful mission,
But still sleep escapes me in this wakeful prison!

Someday if I'm lucky I'll collapse to the ground.
The world will black out and I won't hear a sound.
Gone will be the tumult, the worry and strife,
A blank, peaceful emptiness . . . That is the life!

Learn more about this author, Terrence Aym.
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