Prose Poetry For the Sleeping
The dreamland calls me to bury myself deep into the warm, sweaty breast of a safer,
lawless land, that's comforting whilst maintaining the surrealism that's mirrored in the
passive, day-to-day life of most observers, humans, and astronauts.
Tonight I can be anyone, anything, superhuman, sub-human, superhero, anti-hero; or just
simply embrace the benefits of a world created entirely for me; courtesy of myself and my
subconscious. Disregard this universe, and create your own.
Sleep is the totally accessible, complimentary antidote to your messed up, gut-wrenchingly
predictable, miserable life.
The ship that sinks, but keeps on sailing.
Copyright © Rob Timmins | Year Posted 2010
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