Wednesday, February 11, 2009

No editing allowed poetry of the top of my head.

This sleep is incurable.
It's need is inevitable.
It is the only achievement I despise to achieve.
It is the only trophy I loathe to leave.

In this never ending race I shall lose.
If I had the choice, to run, I would not choose.
I lack words to describe this feeling.
This insomniacs, drooping eye's, are not great, but this appreciative feeling.

I hate it, I love it, it makes me think.
It slows me down, it hurts me to blink.
As you noticed I could not think of a word to rhyme with blink.
It was something, a situation, my brain could not think.

This is freestyle, but I will not rap.
My arms are tired, soon my nightly defeat will relapse.
I will leave you tonight, as I am now ready.
Sleep here I come, good night.

So yeah. That was weird. But I should sleep now. Almost three am. I guess this thing does help after all. Well maybe not. I would be getting sleepy by now anyways. But writing is better than movies. I learned something about myself, but that's to be discussed another night. I also learned a meaning of a phrase. Deja Vu though, I am pretty sure I knew what it meant, I had Googled it before.

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