How relative is time
That when I have an address
Of where to send my thoughts
I may march through the days
With my coveted "tasks" of penship
Fulfilled
Yet when I lack this focal point
And fumble into doorless walls
Each dizzy cell zips about
With not a patient comfort, all
Panicked

A catfish laughs.
It thinks of other catfishes
In other ponds.

Come, sweet sleep,
Lay me down on a bed of fresh sheets.
Pour over me a cloud of tranquility
and dose me in your heavenly bliss.
Let the blankets close me snug
and the breeze be cool enough.
Gently shut my eyelids soft,
Carry me away to my dreams aloft.

In my next life I am going to be a bird
not because I would fly
but because I wouldn't be human.

I wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone
or wonder,
or cry.
(To be honest I don’t know if birds cry – do they?)

I would not think too much
and act too little.

I would make my life simple
as simple as possible.

I would eat
drink
fly.
(I’d FLY a lot)
…and simply live for tomorrow.

I know I’d enjoy every second of it.

UNLESS…

**…unless he wants to become a bird in his next life as well!

Then I am *******.