Proper Followers

Sunday, December 21, 2014

Ninety nine words.


Some people count sheep to get to sleep
Not me I count daft things like tiles and floors
I've got thirty odd walls in my house
And three or four invisible doors

But I’m stuck in the attic afraid
Looking up through the crack in the roof
Waiting for the full moon to come back round
So I can make my way down before dawn

Outside I can hear the birds singing now
Must have fallen asleep or through the hatch
I tell myself as I reach for the clock
It’s eight thirty time to get up and go

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