A mind at rest
Really is a mind wasted
For all the foods of thought
Go in and out untasted
PROCRASTINATION
The
World
is ours
To know
And touch
And to hold
Yet never ours
To have control
And as twilight
Begins and ends
In a dreamer's eyes
Those shades of reality
Are building sandcastles
Be they in shadowed images
Lost in the mornings sunlight