This Poem was Submitted By: arnie s WACHMAN On Date: 2006-08-11 00:25:16 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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My eyelids catch the dust, as I stifle a yawn Can’t sleep It’s midnight My father used to sprinkle gold dust around when that happened Those were magical moments Covers tucked in like a cocoon Age does something to the body Wrinkles and warts And hard bowel movements push the hands towards insomnia There’s nothing on TV ‘cept  …people pushing magical potions and frying pans while CNN says terrorists want to blow  us up I want to find that rabbit hole and those purple pills that can make me small so I don’t have to carry a gun!

Copyright © August 2006 arnie s WACHMAN

Additional Notes:
...an old song was running through my head at midnight...and this is the result.


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