My Writing
New Dream
"First day
of school"-type
excitement.
Fresh flowers
in a bed of
faces.
This does not compute,
the volume's blaring violently
now, before it was
mute to me.
Trudging against waves
of softening opposition
that I had created,
that I am destroying.
Ideas awakened
from the back, black
depths of your mind.
Tangible, finally,
tang like a
madman.
Suddenly awake
from the dream,
catalog paradise
before it's
lost.
Lost to the
onset of routine
conformity,
rising... rising...
drowning... drowning...
Remember! Before it's too late!