SleepA Poem by Heather Bereskin
A short poem about death
Sleep fills my eyes, like pollen from a dream flower.
Incense wafts filling the room with sweet smoke.
Tea warms my soul as my eyelids droop.
Drifitng off to Neverland, unsure if I'll return.
© 2012 Heather Bereskin
AboutI'm a 25 year old budding writer with a degree in English and Comparative Literature from the University of Cincinnati living in Bloomington, Indiana. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Things.. more..
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