Each night before I go to Sleep, A decision has to be made in favor Of one method or another To help make that precious name a reality. Some nights I try the one hand. At least then my tossing and turning is natural, And if at last I decide to embrace the Open-Eyed World, I can. Other nights I try the other. The drugs paralyze me for endless hours, But at least amid my nightmares I'm not conscious And the next day I can think that I've tasted Sleep. Every night the decision must be made, but I've come to realize, Equal mass of skin and bones, neither hand weighs better.