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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #2200167
Most nights
Here I am dreaming of sleeping
My worst nightmare for all time
Everytime I do, I end up weeping
Cause for me it's still a crime

All walls start collapsing
My mind keeps drifting
My heart calls it relapsing
My body calls it uplifting

The way forward to tomorrow
Like stepping on hot coals
Seems quite silly just to go
When I could just stay awhile

The idea of sleep is full of holes.
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