It's a torture from Hades, if not from
Hell
To close my eyes feeling almost well
and wake feeling like I'd spent the
night in bed
With a thirty-pound dumbell lain across
my forehead.
These intimate nights with the bowels
of the earth
Are, but don't feel like, a good cause
for mirth.
-------
Though to write it departs from the rest of
the rhyme,
Sleep already makes up most my lost
time.
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