Half to sleep and perhaps I'll die,
but might I stay in those most dear
like beer downed? No, more self's worn sigh?
Half to sleep-and perhaps Ill die...
Yet in the night who'd hear my cry
in the Aloneness we all fear?
Half to sleep and perhaps I'll die,
but might I stay in those most dear?



the one in the mirror calls you fraud
and tough dispting one so cute.
for shocking as some lightning rod
thw one in the or calls you fraud
for your chrome

Glenn Bagshaw

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/triolet-still-awake/