The clock says four.
A minute passed and now its three.
In an hour it will be one.
The door is the floor.
The carpet's on the ceiling.
And a guitar crashed into the window.
A penguin is walking along beside me.
The tree is growing inside.
It's been twenty-six days since I lost my mind.
Just kidding,
It's been a lot longer than that.
YOU ARE READING
NORMAL THINGS | Poetry
PoesíaMy thoughts are too crazy to be said. And too loud to be unheard. ~ A Collection of Revised Poetry ~
