oh sleep

i’m tired, i guess, or old,
lifetime of poison, i guess,
once there was so much to get excited about,
or perhaps it was a daydream,
it is oldness or worness,
perhaps after the night I’ll be awake again
the grey beard best removed,
or grow it like an old sailor
funny how stuff doesn’t grow like it did
it’s hard to believe the poison was by our forces
sad, but then that seems to be the human way