As I watch the moon drift slowly
Across the sky
I find that
I am not tired
I close my eyes
And lay in silence
But the Sandman
Doesn't visit me.
I lay there
Till the moon
Becomes the Sun
Till night is morning
And I have not slept
Not a bit.
But I am not tired.
Am I ill?
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What Life is Like
PoesieLife has many wonders, choices, and consiquences. Here are different stories of those things with different people.
