The other side of the Alarm Clock
MRRRRRRRt*MRRRRRRRt*MRRRRRRRt
That annoying buzzing and chirping
-beeping and blurping-
that hastily and violently jars him away
from the most precious of any of man's treasures
-his dreams-
those themes he won't reveal to his fellow man,
the things and spice that make up all of creativity
and the inventions in which it commands
its in that world he can be what he wants,
have what he desires,
and be....what man was truely meant to be
-Free-
all to be ripped away by the confounding noise
made by the most simple of devices
the alarm clock
so he shakes the sleep from his head and
the drowsiness from his eyes
hits the bathroom, the shower and shave,
he throws on the clothes he sees and starts to make his day
-his day-
his choices, his responsabilities,
his focuses and his clarities
our man about town goes about his day to day
he eats his lunch, does his work,
and for his friends his show is on display
this is the man who follows the rules,
and does what he's told,
because every night he returns to stories that yet unfold,
with closed lids and a crooked smile
his dreams deliver what he believes his life would defile
every night with the same horrendous ending
he barely makes it through his day to make it to the next chapter
in his story
and for him, I cry
I cry at the site of a man with lost potential
that he lost the thing that every child knows is essential
the only difference between the world that lays on that side
of the alarm clock and this-
is quite a simple thing, the laws of physics
he wastes and toils week upon week,
his only desire is the things he feels when he sleeps
its creepy, and uncaring,
to become so selfish and unerring
to only make it through this world,
to briefly visit that one
its sad, really
that your average joe is only set reeling and kneeling
at the thoughts in his head that are most fleeting
that at maturity's door, he crossed the threshold
and sold away most of what he adored
-now I-
with my inner child the pilot of my mind
that my life is my own, it will always follow my design
that my only misgiving, my only crime
is that I took the time, so now
-beneath these cloud I lie-
I'm
drawing and writing, cooking and creating
I'll taste a woman's lips and commence with passionate love-making
I live in the moment, with no visions behind closed eyes
I bring one thousand 'can do's' for his every 'I'll try'
so let him visit his dreams for but a moment,
I'll live mine out for the rest of my life
while his dreams are kept under key and lock
my visions and reality will always collide
-on this side of the alarm clock-
By spyboygreen
© 2007 spyboygreen
(All rights reserved)
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