abstraction
By lost child
we slept through tomorrow lapping daydreams from broken glasses sipping true sweetness never found alivewaking up at noon every day looses it's thrill when your head hits the pillow at dawn. still, it's refreshing to have the sun tapping your shoulder instead of an alarm. don't ask me what that has to do with this poem, it's not overly important. Written October 28th, 2001 © on Oct 28 2001 02:01 AM PST 18 • 0 • 10
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"we slept through tomorrow..."