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I Found Myself

I found myself
Wandering across
A dreamscape
That was not my own;
And wondering
About the many
Dreamscapes of
The wanderers,
Suddenly seeing
That I was wandering
The dreamscape of
The wonderers of
The wanderers
That still wonder;—
A dreamscape
All my own and
Still not mine.

I found myself
Moseying with
The meanderers;
Found we were
Bound by an
Identical path,
One of us being
Leisurely, the
Other clueless.
Me, moseying,
Smelled the rose
Of the meanderer,
Who, meandering,
Saw me moseying
And assumed
I simply walked
Slowly; he also
Failed to see
That he held
A flower in his
Unmindful hand.

I found myself
Sleepwalking
Amongst the
Somnambulists,
Questioning their
Dreamscapes,
Why wandering
Them apparently
Was pleasing.
And they cursed
Me, declaring,
"What can a
"Sleepwalker
"Know about
"Somnambulism?"
So I found myself
Sleepwalking
Amongst the
Somnambulists,
The somnambulists
somnambulating
Over us
Sleepwalkers'
Heads, demanding
We succumb
To the greater
Mindful power.

I found myself
Graveled by
The grovelers—
Irritated by
The peasants.
The grovelers,
They grovel for
Me not to be
Graveled at
Their mistakes.
Yet the mistake
Is the groveling
At the graveled;
And how graveled
At the grovelers
I am. It is a circular
Conversation—
The grovelers
Shall die in
The dungeons
Of the graveled,
Trapped in
Perpetuation.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017




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Date: 3/1/2017 2:05:00 AM
Trapped in a perpetual momentum.... How apt worded. Great poem!
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Date: 2/26/2017 9:42:00 PM
Ha! Heck yes, Daniel! : )
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