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Healthy Balance

Poetry Friday: Insomnia

Every week for the past few months, we’ve published the winning poems from April’s medical poetry contest. This week’s poem, a runner-up in Category III: Grab the (Black) Bag: Miscellaneous Medical Moments, is the last one. Thanks again to all who submitted! Read all of the winning poems.

By Rabita Alamgir

Eyelids fail to block
late chats with the moon.
I’m lucky, it mocks,
that I can admire its beauty.
I don’t get nightmares,
but I’m robbed of sweet dreams.
I read to my soul’s content
then forget everything in a day.
I notice with useless clarity
the murmurs of the wind,
the drone of the heater.

Purple bags, my physician remarks,
are but a metonymy
for my endless despondence.
Yes, too saturated with bitter optimism,
sunlight always stings my eyes.
I have no right to be so melancholy,
yet I’m always awake and
alert, hopeful
sleep might come. Still,
My eyes never sparkle.

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