This is a poem about
insomnia, and it does sound bad when someone has such a problem.
I honestly have never had any sleeping problem myself. I can sleep
anywhere. On the floor, on the bus, on the plane, on the ship, or on the
classroom chair in front of the instructor.
Anyway, the person in the poem opened an engineering book, and that
surprised me. If that was me, I would probably open an engineering book
too because I am an engineer. The only difference is I don't smoke.