There’s only one thing you want.
If you did have a magic wand
You would wish for the happy bond
With sleep.
Your anxiety makes it tough.
Seems like you’ll never get enough.
For that matter, you’re out of stuff
To reap.
Thoughts are riding an endless train,
You can’t break this enormous chain.
You are begging a soothing rain
To weep.
All your fears are crawling ‘round.
You are scared of every sound.
Every shadow is so profound,
So deep.
I have a tac-tic:
Tuck in, talk, think,
Coun-ting the flock.
Flying stars of Orion’s kite,
Counting sleep on a sheepless night,
Wait until you see the bright light,
Wake up.
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