In my sleep each night, I write,
And write and write and write and write.
The rhyming words do ebb and flow,
Even though I bid them go.

The thoughts I write do sometimes please
At other times they're close to sleeze.
But, still I write and write and write
And write and write throughout the night.

If I could have just one good night
Where I did not just write and write,
I think that I would catch a flight
And go somewhere the sun is bright
Where I could sit and write and write.

- Charles Edwards Moss

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