Cognitive

By John Tidwell



As I lay my head down my eyelids close

My mind drifts off into a fictional dream

Doubtfully, will it come to fruition, I propose.

A different way of being or so it seems.



As I dream thru the night

I reflect how lucky not to remember.

Undoubtedly reoccurring images of freight.

The dreams never linger after slumber.

My mind at will wondering away into space.

My body has to stay in this draconian place