Relative Something

*this* John W. Hays' take on things and experiences

Lyrical Reality

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.

sleep begs my eyelids to give up
tugging them down against their wishes
with miles to go
before I am home

pieces of asphalt lie scattered
in the grass that grows up around them
waiting patiently
for someplace to go

trees lean in every direction
victims of unforgiving forces unleashed
with vengeance
despite their innocence

the cats refuse to call a truce
behaving erratically and always on alert
to an impending threat
they themselves created

and the clock rolls on
ticking and clicking
advancing
as if being forced
to march on
no matter how ready
we don’t think
we really are

sunshine peeks up over the horizon
and everything takes notice and responds
absorbing and growing
greater than before

pounding like a heart always beating
inspiration thumps on my sleepy head
like a freight train
with someplace to be

things to do overflow my thoughts
like the snowmelt water that still remains
wreaking havoc
on any sense of order

brush piles patiently await their fate
as if being prominent carried specific intent
an always easy option
to fulfill a burning desire

and the clock rolls on
ticking and clicking
advancing
as if being forced
to march on
no matter how ready
we don’t think
we’ll ever be

.

.

Written by johnwhays

May 11, 2013 at 7:00 am

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