Change
The hot breeze at my back coaxes debris to follow me through the parking lot...
Things are surreal... False, but oddly true...
Free time has suddenly become rare and obscure...
I find myself strangely missing you...
My world has changed in such extreme ways...
Like a precarious bridge, in the wind it sways...
Sleep now finds me and beats me down...
It's not the fall, it's the rapidly rising ground....
Careful what you wish for, it may come true...
When all your wishes are granted, your dreams are through...
Copyright © Darrell Hoover | Year Posted 2012
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