My Little Black Book of Books
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
In the early morning mist
Everything is hazy.
I woke
With a fog in my head.
Everything seemed unclear,
Everything seemed like a dream.
The boundary between waking and dreaming
Is blurred.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Older Post
Home
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment