Such a struggle this,
in and out my mind’s going,
never ceasing much.
I cut the paper,
sizing it just right I’m told
before it fell down.
My mind’s wandering,
I know it is sleep that plays,
with that strange dreamland.
I used to count sheep,
but they have all run away,
and jumping fences.
Sleep is tracking me,
and sneaks up to surprise me,
in some dreamlike place.
