This poem cannot be found in my first book of poetry.

Exhausted Circle

Do you know me? who I am and how I feel?
How often I find it unbearable to open my
eyes when the morning forces its chirping birds
and hazy rays of sunshine on my soul.
Violating my slumber with the unwanted presence of daylight.

And is it better still to lie awake in turmoil?
Tracing the seams of cotton bedsheets while my mind and
heart place games of war, and my body
begs intervention for lack of sleep?

There is always that question of -why-?I despise it even as it forces its way into my thoughts.
The unanswerable question.
Who can escape it?
who could ever ignore its
pressing demand, kiling time i desire for sleep,
waging a war I cannot win.
Why the hate? why the fear?
Why suffer for the uncontrollable?
Why feel helpless for the fatality of popular opinion?

Why do you care?

When my vision finally fades to black
I am yet assaulted once again,

Why must I wake?