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Sandman Lessons





	Here I sit in my hometown school, 

	forced to hear some farce knowledge, 

	like blackboard sonnets of elephants.

	Held in my keeping desk, 

	second home for myself,

	while my attention span stays in Alcatraz island state. 

	I am always leisurely attuned to what my teacher says.



	Some just follow in conformity; 

	others may stay in rebel sleep.

	Me, I just meet the Sandman in his class.



	My brain there asks hard questions 

	in soul-searching quest. 

	Which half of my brain watches the night?

	There are no answers, 

	only rerun questions from my sleepy travels.



	I keep hoping my hungry mind would be full of answers,

	when sleep ends and my daydreamed life 

	begins to flicker in the morning sun, 

	as reality blows sleep away. 



	I always go back to my school life.

	I begin again, rewound from finish to start,

	again learning more nonsense facts 

	distasteful to my mind.

	I want to know what the Sandman knows! 

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