My mind races through the night
never ceasing to remind me of
the previous days’ stringent story,
always starting with waking up
late,
and ending with going to bed
late.

Memories of days at the farm
conquer my dreams,
recurring flashbacks of
hopeless greed for
peace that will never fall
into place because
my never-ending work
is always just a waste.

The best time to be awake,
is when everyone else sleeps.
The angry, arguing voices
are silenced, and then
it is quiet,
a delicacy,
often unheard of
in my house.
For once,
throughout the nights after school,
there is no fighting
when everyone goes to bed,
and I can actually
think my own thoughts,
and that is why
I can’t sleep.