I thought insomnia was surreal, I used to laugh about it, Not knowing I was only myopic, but I never imagined that I could also be a victim. Time turned itself inside out, And I was a ghost at a familiar table, Seating there alone, My mind being static, But time never stopped. Like a million other ghosts, I was there sitting on my own table despondent, That's when I looked at the clock above me and sigh, Yearning for a deep velvet rest.