the stars, the sea, and sleep.

Friday, September 24, 2010

Ride The Work Bus

The alarms went off at 7 .a.m.
But there was no wolf at my door,
Just a hooded morning
With my head so far from the floor.
But I'd make it on through the other side
Thinking the day I sleep is the day I die.
So I kept myself up
Scratching lead between lanes,
Criticizing each route taken,
Taking wishes from each plane.

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