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by
Eliot
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Poems
Nov 2011
2:20 AM
Insomnia makes sense
When dreams become illusive
When reality is exclusively
Mine.
For every grain of time
That has passed through my lashes
I regret every closure of my two
Eyes.
Goodnight, sweet dreams.
The sheep are monsters
I can't think
And the thoughts I manage
Consume me.
Goodnight to you,
sweet dreams to me
I have been consumed
But not by sleep.
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,
Emma
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Shashank Virkud
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