Poetry By, J. M. Lilin
I like to imagine when we rest, our thoughts take a chance at flight.
Over navy blue oceans and pumpkin patches of old and sunken dreams.
The world can finally become something more than black and white.
When the sun goes to be replaced and the moon becomes our light beams.
I like to imagine when we rest, a constellation of melodies will cause a dance.
A wonderful twisting tornado of shimmering friends.
All those specks in the sky are far more to Miss Midnight, then an acquaintance.
Something so small, yet so brilliant that it will always transcends.
I like to imagine when we rest, the fireflies come once upon a time.
Like the cousins of constellation beauty.
They will spark up some inspiration in an exalted rhyme.
Leaving a list of dreams under our pillow for all eternity.
I like to imagine when we rest, the imaginary will come to life.
The Unsigned Writer has woken up and began.
To slice open and spill my ink heart with a knife.
Keeping awake the sweet song of sandman.
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