Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Unconcious bound

How old is hope?
How long must i cope?
I say tomorrow will be a brighter day,
I wake up,
Look outside my window,
And Lo!
Indeed it's brighter than yester.
But at noontide,
I hope again for a better morrow,
And the vicious circadian cycle replays.
The present troubles unbrighten today,
I cant help but wonder,
When dusk will strike again,
So that i can hit the road again,
The Royal road to the unconscious.
For only there do i cease to worry,
And there do i wish to tarry.
Post a Comment