nothing but a daydream

the movements
of our hands cling
to the west of our boundaries.

we can never
swim in our ocean of

the alteration
of our every day is
nothing but a daydream.



About chester maynes

poet, and a lover of music and books.
This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to nothing but a daydream

  1. izeezee says:


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