Читать книгу From Anxiety To Poetry - - Страница 27

Filling with sadness

Slipping to madness

Sat up in bed

Thoughts spinning my head.

Every night at 3 am

Regular as clockwork

Infuriating thought mayhem

Overrunning mind-work.

Sisyphus toils

Head spun

Blood boils

Exhaustion.

3 then 2 then 1

Then none

No hours left

Bloody day has come!