When I wake the dreams still cling tightly
Their lovely tentacles pulling, caressing my brain
Sleepy thoughts swirling cloudy, gentle
As I climb out of bed and reassemble slowly
The pieces of those dream-worlds remain
Visions of impossible beauty sentimental
Coming down from the transcendental
Sunlight crashes in and burns the feelings that remain
Morning moves through my bones unkindly
End.
No comments:
Post a Comment