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Jan 2017
Again sleeps become,
A coveted prize.
Sheltered away,
From my heavy eyes.

Reluctant walls block,
The short treck to my bed.
And a quiet voice urges me,
"Don't go" in my head.

So I wait just a single,
Rooms distance away.
Relying on nature as sleeps saviour,
Regardless of what the voices say.
Rob K
Written by
Rob K
238
 
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