This poem was composed from lines written in English 201.02 on Wednesday, 9/22/04

How Could This Be So Real?

Today, I am an idiot

I can either complain

Or try to maintain a positive outlook

My alarm clock and I

Have an abusive relationship

Leaves and acorns fall and skim

The surface of sleepπs still glass pond

And river banks start out threatening

But as dreams float by

Shores become more welcoming

I fear I have nothing to give

Living I have so much to lose

I look before me and see a present memory

Conforming to deja` vu like heredity

My past seems tattooed on every babyπs face

Gazing at a crossroad of all life

And newly awake in unraveling blankets

Of something more than human fabrication

Peace requires a great wake-up wink

Of patience and understanding

Though truth doesnπt equal reality

In this poem with many voices

The smell of fall always makes me nostalgic

About sleeping on Sunday afternoon