*~Who Am I to Destroy a Masterpiece?~* (A Poem)
I'll make friends with the pillow
And weigh my eyelids with untimely thoughts
If they close of course I have nothing to contemplate
But if they shudder and squint, I have much to consider
If I fall unconscious prematurely
Then my dreams will paint and ponder
On large canvases of mind and body
So gently does my mind's artist lay his paint and love down
Onto a canvas that would go on forever and more; if I needed it to
My thoughts are a current
Moving slowly through an ocean
There is an end somewhere
And a final result
But I must slither through the rest before I complete
I lose my eyes in the pixels
Vision blurred
Fingers moving quickly to sneak through this mansion I call insomnia
I'll sleep sometime
I'll use my canvas sometime
I'll take that dive sometime
But as for now
I'll stare at pictures of future dresses and past kisses
And slowly build up inspiration
So the painter in my mind
Will never stop his slick flows and flicks of the wrist
No, Not I
Who am I to destroy a masterpiece?
I'm no one but the priest who pronounces the head and pillow
Husband and wife
Then I step back and let them kiss
Kiss away
Dream away
Sleep tight.
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