Canned Thoughts Poem by Alexander Foald

Canned Thoughts



As the dawn breaks into the room
I can see where my dream came from
Adjacently with the soft light from the sun
Eyes are cold, staring at the sleeping beauty

My fire still flares up
I drink coffee and get some drug
Wish I could stay longer before it ends
Like riding a jet-car on a long highway
I’m lost when I refuse to wake up

But those faces, those wrinkled skins
Between delicious agony and spiteful memory
Akin to my tongue, where my words born by
Like a fire, like a lie and the canned thoughts
This dream can’t stand alone when it’s drowned

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