Staring at the Ceiling

Staring at the ceiling.
Dreading work.
Will work poorly,
Because of lack of sleep,
From lying awake nights,
Staring at the ceiling,
Dreading work.
Worried about past unpleasantness.
Fully expecting more to come.
Makes for restless nights spent,
Staring at the ceiling.
Dreading work.
But not just work.
Any conversational contact,
With others.
Snide remarks,
Underhanded tactics,
Inconsiderate humour,
Blatant abuse.
A stable of woe.
Faced daily.
With little choice.
Little real freedom.
But to suffer and internalise,
And sometimes write.
And so suffer again and again.
Knowing complaints to others,
Would only call in to question my,
Attitude.
With little to no regard for my,
Feelings.
I must work,
For long forgotten reasons.
But first I must lay,
Frustrated awake.
Dreading work.
Staring at the ceiling.

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