What is it we are
When we are not?
When are eyes are firmly closed
Held tight by the pressure of the night
Setting itself on our minds
Making us yawn
And driving us to think  
That it is time to sleep
What are we in the dreams
We never grasp in the lapse
Of Time our minds race
Against the clock to store
What we long for and think of
Throughout the day we see
The light and all the dust
Dancing in a ray
Emanating out of pillows
And couches as soon as our weight clasps
And we fail to catch
And our hands go past
And we do not remember
The gravity of such
A waste of hastily
Floating particules
Just as much as our cerebral activity
Goes on a never ending cycle
The vicious circle
A train that goes round and round and round
Stops on the usual platforms
Embarks all of the familiar faces
Closes it's doors on strange noses
The rails squeak and whirl
Speed up to maximum speed
Speedy Gonzales
And you are out of the dark gloomy woods
The forbidden paths
Where there are no signs
Are rarely taken
For granted
But when the engine has no choice
But to melt with the hollows
It cuts the road in two
And disperse itself in half of you
Your eyes go blank
And you wonder what felt wrong
Strangely clement
Yet you close your them backwards
For you never face these unknown noses too
They might mistake your head for an entire
map of the world
And they might have a clue
About what you might be
Or might be thinking about