Good Night Poem by John Florio

Good-night?
How can I call the lone night good—
I close eyes, but sleep runs away;
Laying on bed like a piece of wood,
hope and pray for the another day.

I see nightmares with unclosed eyes,
of all those memories I was given;
Mind engrosses in thoughts, and cries,
recalling the words left unspoken.

The night is silent, and room horrible,
darkness grows deeper than before;
How do I say it "good" — impossible,
there are still sleepless nights galore.