Concrete poem

September 16, 2016

I close my eyes.
I get rest and i relaxe.
It is dark and bright.
It’s quiet and loud.
It is warm and cold.
There is a sound of a fan.
Rolling, tossing, and turning.
Tossing sheets and blankets.
Thirsty in middle of the nights.
Waking up, and falling back to sleep.






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