In the summer of Year Ten,

I felt compelled to oversleep,

Only rising at ten or eleven,

Often remaining in my pyjamas,

Dozing or lying awake,

Helpless, hopeless, listless.


I did research this,

And found it had a name,


This or insomnia I found,

Was common in depressives.


Mom and dad believed me lazy,

Not wanting a repeat,

Of what previously occured,

I did not correct them.


During this time,

Did I rip out much hair,

Behind my bedroom radiator.

Did I conceal it.


As the summer drew to an end,

I had a thought,

A day away from everything,

Might help somewhat,

I could clear my head,

Think about what to do.


I misled dad as to the return date,

Choosing the same day,

The Year Sevens had a day alone,

Though I felt bad about lying,

I considered it was worth it.


I planned out a nice relaxed day,

I could read, browse careers,

Maybe play Linkaword Endings,

Or Hexaword Endings,

Yet my plan, it was thwarted.


One of my friends,

She lived opposite the school,

She saw me from her window,

Going into school,

I was sent home.


Outwardly feigning surprise,

And pretending I made a mistake,

Inwardly was I exasperated,

And grudgingly waited a day,

Returning with everyone else,

The following morning.

The End

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