As I lie between sleeping and waking,
It dawns on me the fact of what I’ve been:
And how far upward to the sun I’ve climbed,
But to slip from the ruin of my mind.
I did not make it to the penthouse suite,
Nor add my towel to Egyptian beach;
Oppressed by all of those from dawn to dawn,
I wouldn’t want to be what they’ve become.
And so, I laugh the laughter of the wise,
But hear! There is a moan upon the street,
That rises to my window on the second floor,
I grab my coat and hat, I’m out the door.
And away, with the throngs that run away,
To be butchered while I steal a Star Cookie,
From the shattered glass of my bakery,
Although I never saw my killers’ face.
Commenti