Zzz

There's too much boredom cooped up in my mind
And in the heat it flies away to dream;
Unlike myself, it need not be confined
But drifts along the paths of may and seem.
Am I asleep? I feel that I'm awake
But who when sleeping thinks they are laid low?
And with each drowsy-headed step I take
My doubts about my present state but grow.
I can feel pain, but pain can be remembered
And thoughts are common to the wake and sleep;
And I'll not test so far to be dismembered
(There are some cynicisms that I keep).
So in my boredom I cannot discern
Whether I'm awake. How could I learn?