A Rainy Daydream
The wave crashes eventually. The leaves always fall. The sun always sets. Time always moves ahead, but here I am, watching the clock tick away; each tick a step closer to the next sunset. I couldn’t begin to think of the history lesson that day, but the clock ticked louder than the doves who preached for peace. It was raining, but my mind was someplace sunny. All my troubles were left out of someplace, but of course someplace ends sometime. My teacher crashed down on my desk like a cannonball of the American Dream. I was hauled straight out of someplace, back to the rain; back to learning the past in the present. “Tick Tock.”
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