Visions stretch to the sky like red carpets
Onlookers waiting for the unknown to grace such fabric
What stitches this?
The question and answer sleep bare as a newborn
and finished like the satisfied old man down the road
Drive around enough and you might get lost
Lose sight to the sky is a must
yet a fractured neck aimed down to the feet only measures steps
It’s a given that’s presented for some to take
and chase away to strain the body of pain
waking up with the same dream before resting again
Insomnia hurts a heart corpulent of disorder
Chaotic to the sneeze from living
Clocking out for the paycheck with the watch running on sunlight
The skin burns from space
and blackens behind the scenery of stars
“What a waste.”
Such lack of thinking in just one blink
So fast, the runner might as well be tactless in flight