While you slept, the world still turned on its axis.
The sun still shone brightly somewhere.
People loved; people hated.
People died in freak accidents.
People were gruesomely murdered.
Somewhere a clown cried.
A mime spoke the unspeakable.
A promise was broken.
A friendship betrayed.
The
perfect
stranger
in the
midst
of his
imperfection
exceeded
all
expectations.
While you slept, a voice called out in the wilderness.
Maybe someone actually listened.
Somewhere liberty and justice took a beating.
On a
desolate
street
on the
downward
side
of
town,
a
homeless
man
took a
beating.
And while you slept, there was a war, there was a rumor of war.
There was gossip.
There was slander.
There was truth.
There was falsehood.
While you so beautifully dreamed, a child screamed.
A line developed; a wrinkle formed.
A furrow deepened on the brow of a very concerned mother.
There was a four-alarm fire a few blocks away.
Everything
was
lost
except
one
Holy
Bible
turned
to the
Book
of
Revelation.
While you slept, there were those who didn't.
They congregated where lonely people congregate.
They
mixed
a
drink,
they
smoked
a
cigarette,
they
pondered,
they
contemplated.
They sunk into utter despair, brought to the brink of suicide.
As you
so
peacefully
slumbered,
some
young
man
was
jailed,
fingerprinted,
and
numbered.
Confessing to a crime he didn't commit.
Rock stars reveled in their eccentricities.
The rich and powerful…well they remained rich and powerful.
Someone turned out the lights for the last time.
Never to return to a job, a home, a loved one or to a favorite hideaway.
While
you so
luxuriously
fell
into
REM
sleep,
a
dollar
bill
was
chased,
a
memory
erased.
A sparrow fell, a dog barked, a clock tick tocked.
A wisp of wisdom ascended from a weeping willow.
The
William
Tell
Overture
played
inside
the
head
of one
deeply
disturbed
individual.
A father in a third world country consoled and hugged his dying daughter.
Not able to grant even the simplest of wishes.
The winning lottery numbers were…well it doesn't matter.
They are never yours and they are never mine.
Someone predicted the end of the world.
And
maybe
it
teetered,
maybe
it
shuddered,
maybe
it
even
wobbled
a
little
bit
more
than
usual.
But the world still stood.
It remains standing.
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