Diary of an Insomniac

My fingers tremble feverishly

Eyes watering from fatigue

And breath in short hot wisps

A yawn escapes my lips

From the depths of my loins

Exhaustion calls my name

The body is weak

Yet the mind is ever alert

Sleep eludes me

And so I stay awake

And bear my burden

Till the rest I earnestly seek, finds me

Maybe a little too late

-The Grace Ola


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