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Sunday Night Blues

 

Scared to sleep,

 I’m afraid I may stop breathing

Scared to sleep,

 afraid someone next to me may stop breathin’

When I’m finally asleep

 I’m paralysed

Try to call out for help,

but I’m asleep,

 you can’t hear my cries

Eyes are open. I’m awake

Have I been asleep at all, was it a dream or real?

 

I can already feel Monday morning blues getting closer to me,

Creeping like a ghost I can’t see

the world,

its already begining to awake

Give me that privilidge

One last look,

tired eyes

finally...

◄ God and The Giant

Broken Down ►

Comments

<Deleted User> (4281)

Wed 30th Apr 2008 07:22

Hello, Richard

Oh, I do not like Mondays!
I see the dislike in your poem as well. It is hard too get the sleep when relaxing over the weekend. I like the reality poem. Except the line that you were scared not to be awake anymore because of stop breathing, well that is a dark line in your poetry.
The poem is nice.

Thank you,
Zuzanna

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