Sometimes the words come to me in a strange dreams
Plots, relationships, unorthodox story lines.
Sometimes sleep comes with such a rush
It catches me by surprise.
There's this dude in this bunk who's a little creepy.
He walks up and down the corridor and peers in through the windows,
and sometimes comes in and smiles at us.
Without saying a word.
Then there are other times where he simply does not run out of words.
And one can only wonder what goes on within his mind.
Do the bulbs go a flickering, every 19 of them?
Is there color or just monochrome, is there a rhythm or a monotone.
Is he trying to smile away his sorrows
How long can he rein it in.
But what good does it do me
If I try to speculate
As I struggle to fight against my own demons.
Inner as they may be.
