Another sleepless night, as the hours creep by me. The clock ticks to the heart pounding aggravation. Angry thoughts whispering in my head - I suppose I can sleep when I'm dead. So achey and worn this hollow suit I use for a body - some kind of medical experiment, not anymore important to the quality of human existence in the medical world.
Calling Dr. Quackhead - prescribe me something! Anything. Another grand mountain of pills that do more harm to me than without them. Screaming thoughts, when will this s**t finally end? As an orange glow peers through my windows, welcoming me to a brand new day -- where I start the cycle all over again....Oh well, I guess I'll sleep when I'm dead.