The sleepwalking boy wanders about in a seemless trance.
He moves gracefully and peacefully and knows not he is about to dance.
But it is not with his feet he dances, rather the tips of his fingers are used.
His feet have stopped moving, for they have a sensation of being bruised.
Though in his sleepwalk trance he trapses the world, oblivious to his actions.
Instead he thinks thoughts of school, of literature, and complex fractions.
This keeps him thinking and learning about what he comes in contact with.
He shows that words can be ordered to create tales of great myth.
Yet he is still unaware of the responses he has begun to cause.
For this trance holds him solid and for one moment he is not able to pause…
The motor running, perpetuating the thoughts of wondrous movement
From the pen that dances on the paper, bringing both joy and self-improvement.