Sleep Sleep Away

Tired, but too busy
to ever really sleep sleep away.

Pretending and stacking
comfortable pillows
till it all but might as well be.

That is where I live
almost there but never
really in it.

Tired, but never caught
caught up in it
or caught up for it.

Like a spiral
that knows not where it started
or is going,

I circle,
never really repeating,
never that good at what I am
to say I'd seen this,
but always in view
of how little the progress has put between this
and that me.

Tired, but unlike rocks
no lack of legs
to blame,

just my skin
and the stuff within
fearing all out.

Why, why so many clouds
between me and my sun,
why.

Tired, I'll find rest
but still now wait
for the more
we all wait for,

the more that is until there isn't,
and the small hope someone
will tell stories of something
you've done
to set their start
out beyond yours.

Sleep
sleep away.