I’ve slept on it before,
Over fifteen thousand, five hundred nights,
P’haps fifteen thousand more,
Nights of fear for what the day might then bring,
Nights of unbridled joy,
Nights when my brain didn’t know where it was,
Preoccupied with the thoughts of a boy,
Nights that my eyes saw more than they should have,
Forever now in me,
Nights I wished my head would ne’er rise again,
Oh, human self-pity.
Look at this face,
Tell me, what do you see?
There are hours ‘pon hours when it lay alone,
Time etching marks of impermanency.
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