I learn Latin verbs but I still can't sleep
and if they can't make me sleep
then there's no way that I'll sleep
and it could be the heat,
or the thunderstorms that never come.
It could be your eyes behind my head.
I wouldn't presume to guess.
The duvet's softer than a shroud,
and the shadows are very warm tonight,
and there's no reason
why I shouldn't sleep exactly like the grave.
But there it is; I know too much
for my own good, and I don't suppose
I'll ever sleep again.
A contest entry
- once again - 4 OPTIONS (PW ALLOWED) by Rhythm Child.
400 points, ended January 24, 50 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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Blimey. Again.
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