Poem: I Need A New CPAP

I Need A New CPAP

Without sleep,
there is some stolen
essence of the world,
a gray, pale hand
touches the world
all about, makes
it impossible to notice
what is not dull,
all things are blended
into a bland paste,
a tasteless pap.
Tonight I will try
to restore myself
again, but I know
tomorrow, I will wake
to a bright dawn
whose colors
will not seem
vibrant before my eyes,
my ever weary eyes.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Poem: Neighborhood Inhabitants

A Writer's Notebook, One-Thousand-Eight-Hundred-And-Seventy-Three

A Writer's Notebook, Day One-Thousand-One-Hundred-And-Thirty-Three