I wait for sheep,
None arrive,
Electric substitutes awry.
There is no sleep,
Just whiling by.
I wait for sheep,
They have all died.
Where is my sleep.
I cannot lie,
I do miss it,
That shady lie.
Where are my dreams,
Replaced by me,
With electric sleep,
And trickery.
The stars they fly,
The sun arrives.
And still I stay,
Awake again.
Where are they gone,
My little sheep.
I await them for,
I must sleep.
YOU ARE READING
Often confusing
PoetrySecond part to a muses musings because wattpad has a story limit. . . I mean an enthralling book of stories
