Days
Weeks
Months
Sorry
I don't know what sleep is
Doctors doesn't understand
Testing me
Trying to find ways
To rest me
On pills I go
But
I still don't know what sleep is
Depressed
I know about every spot on
My ceiling
My walls
My TV
Documents saying that I'm sick
No sleep
Turned me into a bomb
Wired for sound
I scream
I run around
But
I still don't know what sleep is
-
Author:
Anthony Hanible (
Offline) - Published: November 26th, 2025 01:59
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 28
- Users favorite of this poem: Anthony Hanible, Katie B.
Offline)
Comments3
This poem describes well the experience of insomnia and its frustrations. Well done
Nice piece. I get it!
Sleep and I aren't aquatinted either!
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