Tuesday, October 23, 2007

FOR REAL


A garden that knows no flowers
A mind devoid of thoughts —

Tell me they’re unreal;
Just some kind of a nightmare.


A pencil that refuses to write
A book that hates being read —

Tell me you’re kidding;
You’re simply pulling my leg.


A heaven that's not home for angels
A sea that harbors no fish—

Tell me they don't exist;
Just myths, some horrid tales.


A sun that shines just for me
A moon wishing for my smile —

Tell me; whisper them in my ears
But only if they’re for real.


//Sherma E. Benosa; 23 October 2007; 2:50am

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