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My eyes burn
Like smoldering ashes have been thrown on my chest
I now know it's time for me to rest
But thoughts mock me when I try to sleep
They bear down hard
Like a car moving downhill
There's a turtle in its way
Then I awake
And I realize that I mistake
What I thought was reality
Was just a dream
But it frightens me because I don't know what it means
And as I think
It stops me from going to sleep
But I still remain sleepy
Silly words like daughter and laughter.
Why isn’t dotter and lafter?
Both, moth and mother are confusing.
It all depends on the way you are using
Those mad silly words in our tongue
More bizarre than between and among.
And, of course there are the oughts
And ought nots of enough and thought.
Shouldn’t one sound per word be
Far less typographical insanity?
I mean someone wound a bandage
Around a wound on an appendage.

It’s just plain silliness of a high order.
You fix food for a boarder, not a border.
You can fish for fish, not sheep for sheep.
And, you can’t daydream if you are asleep.
There’s a rhyme about a wood chucking wood
But he only seems to do it if he would.
A dog can bark at a cat on a roof,
Which can be said either like root or woof.
In Britain anyone can go pound on a pound
In America, ground coffee can be on the ground.
And driving a car now your own can be fined.
But finding a free auto is something of a find.
It makes very difficult to tease other tongues.
Not even if you shout at the top of your longues.

Lately we changed things like light and nite
But, not white, night, knight or blight.
We changed you to one letter, a simple ‘u’.
Now, tell me please, was that so hard to dew?
Oh, wait. I mean due. No, I meant do all along.
The way English is, it’s not hard to do it wrong.
Is it its or is it it’s? It’s dependent upon.
What kind of sentence you have going on.
For example if you have an itch on your ****
It’s on your ****, but I’ tell you what.
It’s itch is its own, and needs no apostrophe.
Just one more view how silly things can be.
So, until later, when things get better
We had better do it rite to the letter.
Oh, wait, that’s wright. No write, no right.
See, I got it rite before the end of the nite.
hello there icy wind
who hasn't kissed me since April
& left completely by May
still you have the audacity
to blow
me
away
all we have is our coats on,
yours with the colour of fresh snow—
neat and untainted; 'white' as they say
and mine completely present of
spilled paint and creases out of cloth;
hues of hope and folded dreams—
trying to reach that lab coat of yours
that's never messy as mine
I bet I am
More sad than you.
I know I am
That's all I knew.
I know I will
Be happy but.
Right now I'm stuck
In this sad rut.
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