It’s late I should be sleeping

Instead I’m painfully awake.

My conscience quickly leaping

As my earth begins to quake

Too tired to form a complete thought

My brain procrastinates

Distracted from the task at hand

its quality dips

Formless thoughts become

Echos of those from my own

Darkness inside during day

I fight because sleep is just

The start of the same

And a dream is a lie.

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