InsomniacA Poem by Frances ClarkYou wear the wig, That is sleeplessness, Rested on your head, Indestructible, as it, follicle By your body, only can you Light yourself up, in a burn.
As it, hacks into your brain It allows nothing to order, Neither any perspiration. So you’re stuck in mud, You can never get out of bed When you only lie in it. © 2013 Frances Clark |
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