Sleep Poem by Michael Koelliker

Sleep



Sands of Time appear,
The Death of Life is near.
Only to renew,
When the Day bring the dew.

Sleep is a bottomless hole.
It buries you like the mole.
The sands are as black as coal.
They may burn your soul.

(4/24/2008)

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Michael Koelliker

Michael Koelliker

Victorville, California
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