I was just looking through a notebook trying to find my notes from a meeting when I came across this little fragment of a poem that I wrote one night. It exactly describes how I felt as I lay in bed one night waiting for sleep.
as i lay me down to sleep the fragmented pieces of my self float down like feathers to settle in to rest until i am whole. still. silent. sleeping.
I am not a poet. This is probably not any good as far as real poetry goes. Feel free to laugh at it. But I like it anyway.