Sitting in the room's center, It makes a pretty picture. Nothing matters inside the room's walls, Once the bed calls. Know that weary day, When you've made too much hay? The body aches to hear The bed's call just near. That soft, sweet voice Asking to make a choice, To leave the day's work behind [...]
As you lay drowning in bed, Draped in sickness, You wonder what you could write next. For no sickness could drown your resolve, Your crazy love for writing. As you lay dreaming in bed, You finally pick up a paper and pen To jot down what you dream, To jot down before you drown.