Paragraph to paragraph Reading away from myself. Drifting from what is needed Swallowed into a useless realm. "Mind, get me through the day, will you? I promise to entertain your earthly bliss." Yet the more I resist, A thought surfaces— How foolish of me To not treat time a luxury! So, I pick up my pen, Bury my nose into the depths of the books Find my little dream resting on its pages— Waiting to be read, to be true.