Thursday, February 6, 2014

Tomorrow

If I were not me I'd be sleeping now
but me I am and so awake I stay.
My slowing thoughts bespeak the undertow
that pulls to bed and then another day,

but I drift aimless high above its reach;
my mind befuzzed does not react to sense,
and I'm more like to swim right back to beach
than give my soul and body recompense.

And so the tide I know I should pursue
recedes without me every night anew.

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