vazambam

  Ingrained in the rock,  The stuff that dreams are made of,    Specks of sand packed tight.       

  You can only teach  A poem so    Much, the less  The better, so better    Keep your mouth shut.     

  Full of brass and precious  Blundering you were    All volume and no  Low-key till    She showed you how classy  Sweet silent saffron coul...

Those in the know insist  You have to    See it to believe it,  But nothing about    It’s only  The beginning    And too often  In the end, ...

  You fall  Asleep and sleep  Forgets you were once    Awake in a world where  Everyone walks  In their sleep.