Moving Nothing

Overcoming night’s dream.

Dripping wait you wake out of love.

Hands holding you back.

Beating you down into the mold you are.

You try to become who you are not.

Wearing clothes of a rock star or preacher’s son.

Wake up on the wrong side of the bed.

Wrong time, wrong day.

The battle begins, the tears roll down.

I hear you call my name, I wake up, restless,

Once more.

© 2007 David Greg Harth

07.11.12.14:19:43@599BwayNYC