Fucking Sheep!

a cold, warm milk glass

sits on the night stand

an empty blister pack

of over the counter sleeping pills

nearby

insomnia,

my rest you blight

every night sleep takes flight

every night a restless fight

drawn out until dawns early light

with your hand up my back

and this grip on my soul

i am your fleshy puppet of wakefulness

so now it’s just gone three am

and i'm trying to get to sleep

been lying here since ten pm

counting fucking sheep

the shut-eye that i sorely need

is beyond my real world reach

i’m laying here doing the numbers

counting fucking sheep

in the time that i have lain here rigid

i’ve watched the numbers slowly creep

i must have easily counted up to now

over eighteen thousand fucking sheep

i need some sleep

not imaginary sheep

but no one shred,

not a single fucking peep

i lay here supine,

just hoping to fall asleep

but until that happens

i’m counting fuckin sheep