Lets pretend the cold concrete,
is actually a chest upon which,
I rest my heavy head,
and sleep comes easy as a breeze.
Dreams of hazy morning light,
As I trod the overgrown grass in a garden,
Barefoot,amongst dewy trees for company.
So lucid,this surreality.
A short brick wall runs around the place,
locking it in from the rest of the world,
Paint peels of the rusted,white picket fence,
and a tire tree swing awaits,welcoming.
The dream shifts,I can no longer see much,
Only feel my heart shut down,heavy as lead,clogged.
Almost like I was held in a loving embrace,
so tight,that I couldn't breathe.
is actually a chest upon which,
I rest my heavy head,
and sleep comes easy as a breeze.
Dreams of hazy morning light,
As I trod the overgrown grass in a garden,
Barefoot,amongst dewy trees for company.
So lucid,this surreality.
A short brick wall runs around the place,
locking it in from the rest of the world,
Paint peels of the rusted,white picket fence,
and a tire tree swing awaits,welcoming.
The dream shifts,I can no longer see much,
Only feel my heart shut down,heavy as lead,clogged.
Almost like I was held in a loving embrace,
so tight,that I couldn't breathe.
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