Classic Poem

Why do you lie awake so long
Slumberless, open-eyed,
Singing a silly, futile song,
Tossing from side to side?

Do you yearn for the touch of a Vanished Hand,
As you toss on a restless bed?
Do you wish for things you understand?
Do you wish that you were dead?

No, none of these things keeps me awake
For many an aching hour;
I cannot sleep until I make
Some verse for The Conning Tower.

And deep I drank of Lethe's cup
And I said “When Apollo shines
On the morrow morn I will get right up
And write about sixteen lines.”