Wednesday, October 30, 2013

We Can Dream

Sleep is so sweet
And my bed is so safe.
The world is gnarled;
Puts its fingers in everything.
Death might be sweet,
But there is no waking up;
Part of the joy of a Sunday morning
Is going back to bed
Instead of fixing the toilet.
Instead of cutting the grass.
The dead get away with everything,
They just don't know it.

1 comment:

Mom said...

The dead don't live....they don't hug their children or surprise their wife with a bouquet of flowers or make their parents smile because they see their life is now worth while. The dead don't write a book with their new inspirations or cure cancer. The living is the place to be. The living can keep trying to bring a smile to others faces or even make another's life much easier. The living can feel the sun on their skin or the crisp snip of winter or smell the leaves of fall as they decompose to bring in next years foliage. The living can hear the joy of children's laughter or the songs from the beautiful birds