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The Birth Of Sandman

Poetry By: Joseph Owl

Every big thing has a small beginning.

Submitted:Aug 1, 2012    Reads: 16    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   

Ugh, my head. Where am I? Where did all this sand come from? (gasp) no, oh please no. It can't be. I must be dreaming. Is this me? How did this happen? I... I can't remember. I can't remember anything. They are lost to me, the memories of my childhood. Who am I? What am I? Where did I come from? Do I have a mom or a dad? Am I feeling sad? I can't tell the difference between sad and happy anymore. I didn't want this. I don't want to be a monster. Was this all it was meant to be? The dust clouds are without motion. I can't even hear one single heart beat within me. Sandman... Why does that name haunt me? I just want to go home. But where is home? I am lost. I'm not filled with clarity. Something's missing. My dreams; everything I had is all gone. Shh, can you hear that? Dust storms beginning to rise. Me starting a new begining, crawling slowly to find a new home. A new generation, another world where all will live forever and ever. No sadness, no pain, and no chaos; everything made of sand. Peace and quet. nothing standing in the way of generations to come.


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