We live side by side
Parallel houses, parallel worlds
Never speaking to the other once

Oblivious to the bustling
in the other home

We're self involved
in our own four walled universe
Right next to me, you do exactly the same

Perhaps eventually
we'll acknowledge one another

Sleep is just as fleeting
as the times when you're not breathing

For when you take your final breath
is also when sleep reaches its depth

The fear of being forgotten
is as foul as it is true

But worse still
is the thrill
you feel when you're remembered

Our minds are filled with words unsaid,
words that fled
and words that are dead

Words that spew
words that flew
and words that could never be true

The truest word
is the word never heard
from the mind that none ever fed

A special day for some.
No more than a weekend for others.
Little girls with bubble gum,
Hiding from their mothers.

Church hymns being sang.
Video games being played.
Church bells rang,
Preachers attempting to persuade.

People saying grace.
Dancing to the stereo.
Sharpie's doodling on a pencil case,
Writers block on a scenario.

Sunday's special in its own way,
But not always for the same reason.
Not always to pray,
Just to enjoy a silly season.

There is so much in a smile,
That humans cannot see.
The hidden sadness of a woman infertile,
A child swinging from a big birch tree.

Each smile tells a tale,
To complex for the mind.
A young bride beaming from behind a silver veil.
A sad old man, forgotten, but kind.

Smiles are supposed to be joyful,
but can also be sad.
A church window pane of glass so colorful.
A girl headed to school in a skirt of plaid.

Each smile different, yet a little the same.
You'll only really know if you play the game.

An old man once said to me,
Don't stand too deep in the sea.
Not because the sea may pull me away,
But because it may not let me leave its bay.

Each night I lie myself to sleep.
Everything will be alright.
Each night I count rocky mountain sheep,
And wake up in the morning bright.

Each dawn I drink coffee with cream,
Two teaspoons of sugar or three.
Each dawn I live the american dream,
In my little house by the sea.

Each morn I ride into the city
To teach the new generation.
Each morn I make myself look pretty,
To gain a mans affection.

Each noon I head to the bookstore,
Eat a late lunch at the cafe.
And each noon I lay on my wood floor,
Making a small paper bouquet.

Each evening I cook myself a small dinner.
Dessert made with chocolate and powdered sugar.
Each evening I consider getting thinner,
And every time, to myself I snicker.

Now each night I sing my love to sleep.
I hold him close to my own delight.
Now each night we count rocky mountain sheep.
and we wake up every morning in the bright.