Sanctuary of Sleep

by Paul B. Johnson


Again I return from a troublesome day,
 a battle-scarred warrior from another fray.
My legs are weary from the Daily Race.
The tension is building from the Great Chase 
  for the money that keeps me warm and dry.
Just another casualty of the American Lie.

My bed is my best friend at days end
It’s where my soul is restored and my body can mend.
The smile that alludes me in the light
 Returns to me in the black of night.
As I run to the dreams of my mind to escape the nightmare of life.

As my body melts into the warm bosom of my posture-pedic,
 I fall into the sweet Gap of silence.
Oblivious to the peaceful solace, I am renewed.

Until I’m snatched from my refuge by the blaring sounds of radio station,
WTFU and the Wake The Fuck UP morning crew.


Sanctuary of Sleep by Paul B. Johnson

© Copyright 2002. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.



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