by Alex Green
I feel most me when I am
asleep. Synapses recapture those dreams I traded in for greener
pastures. The road I am on puts food in mouth, but no sunshine in soul.
So as the sun rises another day, I am sad to awake. Not of anger for
growing old. But towards the stranger who quieted my soul.
Alex Green is a liberal, a conservative, a realist, and a dream-deferring,
self-described-in-a-box-aholic, who loves apathy, sensationalism and