Eyes dry for lack of lid,
Sleep deprived forever,
Sitting there amid,
piles of bound thoughts.
Pencil grinding, keys typing;
Waiting for that one last stroke,
Holding on to one last hope.
Thoughts to be managed,
Ideas must be composed;
Till daylight hits the weary worker,
And eyelids finally close.
Jan 25, 2011
Jan 25, 2011 at 5:59 PM UTC
Eyes dry for lack of lid,
Sleep deprived forever,
Sitting there amid,
piles of bound thoughts.
Pencil grinding, keys typing;
Waiting for that one last stroke,
Holding on to one last hope.
Thoughts to be managed,
Ideas must be composed;
Till daylight hits the weary worker,
And eyelids finally close.
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