I: am tired
The numbers: bright red
They tell me it’s again too late
Hours of sleep surely won’t be eight

Eight…
What a luxury
I long for bitterly
Sleep is for the weak!
I can’t possibly seek
My bed for so long
‘cause behind the desk
– that’s where I belong

My thoughts are like pop-up windows
Unstoppable, chaotic weirdos

Let’s put myself to a test!
How about no rest?
I won’t weep
And shall keep
This crazy, unhealthy pace
Until I finish this race

A few letters before my name
Oh, this moment finally came!
Now I can put myself to sleep
Please, don’t wake me up –
At least for a week!

Find me here: