Sharp rocks in <br />my dreams stumble <br />into my waking life. <br /> <br />They don't like me. <br />Please tell me why. <br /> <br />They have no feet. <br />They never smile. <br />They never laugh. <br />They have no souls. <br /> <br />Could you please <br />move them into <br />someone else's dream? <br /> <br />Isn't that what shrinks <br />get paid to do? <br />No problem, right? <br />After all, the rocks <br />aren't even real. <br /> <br />And neither, <br />it seems, <br />am I...<br /><br />David Kowalczyk<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fifty-hour-minute/
