White Halls
As I walked down the
corridor I pulled out my crayon.
Walked about fifteen
feet.
Then I turned left.
Backed up and turned
right.
Why did I turn right.
The hall here was
white, bright white.
I started writing in
words I had never seen before.
I wrote in dead
languages.
White walls were no
longer white.
Mathematic
algorithms.
Things long gone and
forgotten.
Architecture from
eons across the galaxy.
Was I walking towards
the light before I died.
They always say your
life flashes before your eyes.
This was not my life.
This was the life of
billions of like-minded ideas planted.
Gone in a flash, time
stood still.
This was not reality
just a dream I thought.
Is my creation gone.
Would there be a
birth of new ideas from loss of billions snuffed out.
Time
is gone and will not tell.
This is the beginning, this is zero-hour.
Before the year 2001 the world freaked out, what will happen? Nothing happened... we're all still here and the computers are all intact. Well everyday is zerohour when you wake up. Things don't necessarily reset but you get a chance to make today different.
This Poem is one of my all time favorites I have ever written. Dreams that coincide with great ideas seem to never end but just start over.