My head is filled with tiredness today,
It's almost time for me to go to bed,
Yet still I have these fourteen lines to say,
Which I'll deliver from my sleepy head.
I'll close my eyes as soon as this is done,
And when I've posted on the book of face,
For this time I know tiredness has won,
And each line's like a tiny little race.
Just six to go and then I can lie down
And let my dreamy head through sleepers gate
I'll rest beneath that soft and gentle gown
Beyond the reaches of my past and fate.
I'm feeling tired, grumpy low and mean,
But now I've finished sonnet four-fourteen.