Dear No One,
I have been roaming not living,
Seeing but not listening,
Sleeping but not dreaming sweet dreams,
Honest but not truthful,
Cunning but not sly,
Shy but not disrespectful,
Attentive but not ignorant.
Yet I wonder what else is meant to be known.
Craving the idea of knowledge but yet
Some things are better left unknown.
And now sleeping seems like a beautiful nightmare.