Sleep has my being
On a string—lassoed
With barbed wire exhaustion.
I want restful hours in the
Dead of night; heavy eyes and
Dreams to replace me—let
Me drop further,
From midnight to mornings
That let me open when my
Eyes do.
Sleep has my being
On a string—lassoed
With barbed wire exhaustion.
I want restful hours in the
Dead of night; heavy eyes and
Dreams to replace me—let
Me drop further,
From midnight to mornings
That let me open when my
Eyes do.