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Something - poemSomethingSomething - poem
Aye.
Something.
Quite.
Something watches over me as I sleep in fits and giggles, painting pictures of lime scented whirly squiggles. 1.00am. You have 5 minutes to get some sleep if you want 9 hours of sleep. Damn. Panic. The mere thought of this pompous consideration has stuck me in contemplation. In the mud. If you go to sleep now, you will have 8.58 hours of sleep. That is no good. 'They' tell me I should have 9 hours. Why 9? This figure sounds random, spirals up in tandem to my restless and squiggly head. Maybe 'They' are the ones who watch over me. Clipboards and flip swords. A
by ~Zube-Sultana
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| I'm a freelance artist/designer interested in all sorts of styles and themes - although I specialise in colourful psychedelic pieces. Take a look at my gallery, i'm available for commissioned work right now! squeezes - zube |
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