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john-edward-smallshawPoems
I dream, I dream and morphine seems to take the pain away, the poppy fields are my armour, the shields against the clamours of the day. If I could, I would and should awake but that takes moral fibre, and I am just the turpitude, the crude and base, no shame, and furthermore, I can't face the accusing looks, or the debits in my credit books. I dream, I dream and lean towards the light that shines from the opthalmoscope, there is no hope I hear them say, more clamour in the clamour of my day, more morphine takes the pain away. I dream to dream and dreams dreams me, dreams will be my downfall.
0
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 4:39 AM UTC
Morpheus, the winged daemon
I dream, I dream and morphine seems to take the pain away, the poppy fields are my armour, the shields against the clamours of the day. If I could, I would and should awake but that takes moral fibre, and I am just the turpitude, the crude and base, no shame, and furthermore, I can't face the accusing looks, or the debits in my credit books. I dream, I dream and lean towards the light that shines from the opthalmoscope, there is no hope I hear them say, more clamour in the clamour of my day, more morphine takes the pain away. I dream to dream and dreams dreams me, dreams will be my downfall.
john-edward-smallshaw
Written by
john-edward-smallshaw
70/English
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 4:39 AM UTC
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