169. Every day we spend here is like a whole lifetime of dying slowly

Dear Mr. Lullaby,

Sing me to sleep.
Please make me close my eyes,
so I cannot see,

Your frail and fragile fingers,

the pretty lines in your palms.

Perfection coccooned in silence,

a never ending smile.

So, Mr. Lullaby,

why can't you see?

Have I really found you?

Or are you just a dream?

Mr. Lullaby,

Do I really know you?

Never more than it ever seems.