Imagination <br />running on empty. <br /> <br />A gray breeze <br />blows cold as sleep. <br />A black wind <br />cuts deep as death. <br /> <br />A table of drunks <br />smash their glasses <br />against imaginary walls. <br /> <br />The sum of the <br />dreams slipping through <br />the holes in my soul.<br /><br />David Kowalczyk<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/december-19/
