- Books, Literature, and Writing
I'm a sleeping giant
I lay like a mountain in the desert
People are to me, what ants are to them
I'm a sleeping biohazard.
The sheets I put on me, soft and warm
Are paved roads for travelers
They move over my body
Jerking and cursing on the flesh curves.
My head sneaking out to breathe
Is the sight seers oddment
Sometimes I release a heavy breath
They step back in amazement.
I move my hands to scratch my ass
They think it's earthquake,
Only a little kid asks his mother
"Is it alive and awake then?"