“My Tired”

“My Tired”

My tired stretches outward, and underwhelms.

Staunch narcoleptics, snoring pots and pans to beat the band.

Slumber robs youth of steady confidence.

Methodical metronome,

cadence of an old age home,

waiting to retire.

Sweaty yellow pillowcases carry the weight of the world.

Quiet, tenderest of moments, forgotten when memories are remembered.

Life, per seek, per chance, a dream of waking sleep.

Lost, recovered? Abruptly.

Dream-weaving steampunk.

Eyelids sealed, a treasure trunk.

Deep oscillating breath,

skirts the breadth of death.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

EvrHub

Health Blog

Bushcraft For Kids.

Bushcraft For Everyone.

%d bloggers like this: