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.
