I think any moment now...
Surely I will start to think any moment now...
I start to think that my feet lose their grip,
Fall down some stairs, start to fly,
But my brain remembers to go to work.
What day is it, where am I and who am I?
I should be awake but I don't want to be,
It is a second existence, very primal,
The most basic emotions for eight hours,
A time that feels so normal.
What choice do I have, which world do I want?
How can I tell when one creeps into the other?
And is this second one all mine?
Every detail that scares me, who creates them?
And who dies when I crash a plane?
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Comments about this poem (Molasses by Jan Hauck )
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