Some times I wonder if there are peas under my bed,
That grow spines in the dead of the night,
And sap out slumber from my overworked veins,
And even if sleep deigns to be my bed partner,
The peas would make sure he grows fangs of nightmares,
Digging deep into the flesh of my mind.
But then, if there really are peas under my bed,
I must be a real princess.
That grow spines in the dead of the night,
And sap out slumber from my overworked veins,
And even if sleep deigns to be my bed partner,
The peas would make sure he grows fangs of nightmares,
Digging deep into the flesh of my mind.
But then, if there really are peas under my bed,
I must be a real princess.
No comments:
Post a Comment