Unearthly drills, and hammers too,
Roam the world just like I do.
At the same hotels, they stay
And follow when I move away.
No matter when I choose to rest,
That’s the time they think it best
To hammer, drill and grind away,
And so, awake I have to stay.
At last, I reach that special place
Where, off my skull, now slides my face.
Bombs may burst beside my head
But I’ll sleep on just like the dead.
14 March 2017