Saturday Mornings

A sharp sound over my head
It fills the entrances of sound
A lovely beat
It tells me of my dreams
A harsh dryness
It reminds me of my nightmares
A book, sleepers and a couple of books
Bring me back in time
Outside the sun is shinning
Inside my heart is shivering.
Why is it always shivering?
Why is it that it gets too difficult to wake up?
Perhaps my nightmares are still chasing me
Or my dreams look impossible
Not sure, it’s Saturday
Tomorrow, when I wake up
I’ll give it a thought.