It's not insomnia but I skip sleep on regular nights.
I hear voices in the soulless nights…

Aren't you lonely?
Aren't you worthless?
Aren't you depressed?

I feel inferior.
I feel lonely.
I feel needy

But why do I always look happy but not feel it?
It’s empty in me, but why does it feel so heavy?
Sometimes I just hate my own presence...

They gathered at the sitting home
They searched how to get rid of this problem
Mohamad came with new religion

Mogul of his nation hated him
They said he differed between man and his wife
Between father and his love
His son who was grown to be his prop

He differed between the master and his slave
He put their shoulder in equal way
He destroyed the worship of status
Which was great trade at hajj season

They sold the gods of several names
For several ways and calls
Mohamad destroyed these gains

One said we must get him away
The Satan was there
He appeared on the face of the old
He laughed and said
"if you get him away
He will attract them by his sweet talk"

Another said," we must prison at wide prison"
The old said,''
He would make magic and attract them
He might get out
And make force to attack them
They looked with amazing
They said, "tell us our lord
How could we stop him?"

He said as an experiment,"
I see
Take from every tribe a strong one
These men will be forty men
With their strong swords
Waiting him till when he got out
To pray to his God for sun rise
And **** him as one man"

The masters thanked him
Saying," that is a good idea"

His God had another opinion
He told his prophet
Mohamad was known with the honest
And the trust
The masters put their important things
To him
To maintain these, until they demands
He told his cousin
Who was so youth
To sleep on his bed
To mock them
And to return their probity

When they looked at the hole of the door
They saw someone slept there
They thought that he was Mohamad
Before the sun rise' time
The God put the sleep over them
They slept in spite of their wake
Of their high rank emotion

After long time
As the sleeper did not get up
In spite of nearing pray, that was besmeared
After one passed by them
Asking, "whom do you wait?"
They answered at one sound
"Mohamad"
He said he passed by them
He put sands over their heads
They did not believe, they put their hands
Over theirs
They found it is not fault

They entered the home
By force
They entered the home
Without any permit
They found his cousin there
They asked with anger
"where is Mohamad?"
He loved and said,"
God protect!"

He rejected me like
As if I were the vegetables
Mushed together and scattered
Across the play board
At a toddler’s dinner table.

Tell me those
things I did,
did not, do.

Talk of me
as a thing
in the past.

Leave me there,
plucked or tossed,
left as detritus.

Then I shall
be nothing to
no one; -gone.

Do you ever just sit there and realize that you mean nothing to anyone
you start feeling lost,
alone,
unloved,
and truly unwanted.
But there's nothing you can do about it.
So you just bury it inside of yourself