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Sleepless: A Poem


it wasn't the coffee

nor anxiety

it is the thoughts

that swirl around

and linger

and push me here and there

if you can't sleep

you can't dream

who is dreaming my life?

is it Maya

only an illusion

the cycle of waking and dreaming

forever revolving and taking me with it

like the seasons

like night and day

an endless cycle

with no beginning or end


Mark Tulin from Ventura, California on July 20, 2018:

beautiful swirling poem. I hate being sleepless, miss my dreams.

Mary Norton from Ontario, Canada on July 17, 2018:

An endless cycle...life is...lovely poem.