Sleepless Nights
My mind spirals with every thought.
I know sleep is what I ought.
Salt fills every drop.
Try as I might, I cannot stop.
Thinking of the wars I've fought.
So poems I begin to jot.
Trauma like this cannot be bought.
So every night I am wrought.
Within the fears I seem to be caught.
Copyright © Caitlin Willard | Year Posted 2023
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