SandMan

A crusty glaze, crumbling with each blink.
A veil of fog, a sleepy eye.
Crisp morning draft, nipping at your nose.
Heaving in the warmth of the blankets,
longing for sleep once more.
A dream on re-run, fading before the end.
Yearning for a glimpse of a fresh sunlight.
Shivering at the deprivation of heat,
rubbing the film of sleep from your eyes.
Coating of nighttime grime, irritates the skin.
Yet warms the heart, for the sandman came.





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