Sleep would not come, no matter how I begged
And lying there, my eyes peeled open by
The insomniac act, I neatly pegged
The reason: though I never doubted why,
It became clearer as my empty mind
Could know no sleep and wandered willfully
Into whatever corners it could find
Of fitful rest, and so provided me
With information (though I might prefer
Sleep and not knowledge) that allowed me to
Past previous uncertain conjecture
Be sure the cause of all of this is you.
Not because you're cruel: because you are
Despite all my desires, now so far.
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