Thousands of bright nights,
Have come crawling slowly through.
My seat is not filled,
I've yet to find that madness,
Paper sticks with glue.
My eyes are so tired,
Objects are starting to glow.
Spiders from above!
Things are now coming alive!
Creatures from below!
Many thoughts linger,
In this putrid brain of mine.
My world does not spin,
But I am getting dizzy.
My limbs intertwine.
Tossing and turning,
My questions are unanswered.
Does fire count as two,
Is fire one syllable?!
My world is shattered.
Morning will go by,
Dawn will bump away the sun.
The moon will shift in,
The stars will twinkle so bright.
Nothing is undone.
I think to the roof.
A wild eagle bops my head.
I'm dazed for moments.
His days are numbered, one day...
I'll bop him instead!!
YOU ARE READING
Reflections of the Son 2008: Phantom Reality
PoetryThis is YEAR ONE of my collection of poetry made from ranging moods, styles & motifs; each telling a perspective on life, as I, the author, see it. A piece written every week in the year of 2008; totaling at 60 devious deviations with 1 bonus poem m...
