It’s nearly midnight and I should be sleeping

But thoughts of anxiety and anguish penetrate my mind, they are creeping.

As the ebon circles under my eyes grow darker

My cognizance distorts to a despondent state of preoccupancy

Resulting in kaput days that feel long

And  shuddersome causing me to waken in hostility.

As each day my face  grows more pale

My circles more prominent

But sleep won’t come

As I drift off, I’m suddenly roused with sweat and nightmares

My soul feels hopeless

As night turns into day

Now it’s too late

And off to work  I go in my wretched state

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