David Kowalczyk - Fifty Hour Minute

Sharp rocks in
my dreams stumble
into my waking life.

They don't like me.
Please tell me why.

They have no feet.
They never smile.
They never laugh.
They have no souls.

Could you please
move them into
someone else's dream?

Isn't that what shrinks
get paid to do?
No problem, right?
After all, the rocks
aren't even real.

And neither,
it seems,
am I...

David Kowalczyk

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fifty-hour-minute/