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 because my alarm clock and I have an abusive relationship

Like leaves and acorns falling and skimming the surface of sleepπs still glass pond,

Like river banks that start out threatening but as dreams float by shores

Become more welcoming even though I fear I have nothing to give living

And I have so much to lose as I look before me to see a present memory

Conforming to deja` vu like heredity tattooed on every babyπs face gazing

Newly awake in the 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

When sleeping on Sunday afternoon