Some never sleep again unless death is akin to slumber

Some sleep on pavement

Clutching that hard-earned bottle

To their breast like death

Some don't sleep

Wired on their drug of choice

They never think that the dreams they miss

May make them more whole

Some sleep soundly

In their nice cushioned beds on hardwood floors

In their estates bought of greed and the suffering

Of the dead the drunk the drugged

Somewhere a sleep so sound falls on some small child

He dreams of nothing but skies so blue that tears come

To his new little eyes

And he rocks in my arms in our rocking chair

There on the hardwood I scrubbed and sanded

So fine the rocking chair is silent

So silent tonight I think of the sleeping the dreaming

The guilty and I cannot sleep until morning comes knocking

I think I am haunted so much in the night

Some lie clutching the sheets as they sleep

They know that their dreams cannot ever be this black again

And the sleep I sink into is dreamless and pure

Like my child I am happy to sleep well tonight

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