RestA Poem by Tai RyensStale boots
tap as they abrade stepping stones Etched
with memories of those beneath; Fatigued eyes scan the meadow counting roses, Expecting
results identical to counting sheep.
No longer
can I endure the torture of the slenderest hand Hovering
above me with an eternal tick-tock; Nor can
I abide the grudging pupils of a faint madman Scrutinizing me from glass as if he were a hawk.
Nonexistent
thoughts bellow in my minds prison, As I
count off the seconds until I am released; I
desire nothing more nor less than to escape insomnia, Reason
being that I may finally rest in peace.
© 2012 Tai RyensAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorTai RyensBay Area, CAAboutI must start that I am not as active as I should be on this site, though I do tend to drop by every now and then and review what I can from friends and those whose works I enjoy. Currently, I am dippi.. more..Writing
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