My eyelids droop, anticipating
What might come once the
World of dreams is let loose
Upon the unsuspecting World of
Mortal Man, a world where
Life goes by at a crawl, yet
Always seems to be zooming by,
A world with buildings that
Scrape the sky,
Yet, alas, not a dreamer
Reaches those stars so long off;
They call us impulsive freaks, yet
They see not a clear perception of
Themselves in the mirrored walls of
Their monstrous creations –
They are more like us than
They would ever like to admit, I would presume.
November 2, 1997
