Nighttime sleep escapes me, eludes, darts from my grip.
Woken by babes disturbed by their fear.
“It’s okay,” escapes from my lips,
It does no good, they still want me near.
Again on this couch worn with age,
Sleep is a stranger I’ve come to crave.
The Sandman has been put in a cage,
A key, I’m afraid, no one can save.
Dark room inviting to close my eyes,
My body drifting, reaching for peace
But it is so hard to come by
That I feel my actions should just cease.