Is It Poetry
They come in the night but not in the day.
To watch what we see but not stay.
One army in arms deep inside of your head.
Dream catchers that see what we have.
White granite and you silver waves.
Blue veins that began with the face.
The death of each gift within arm's reach.
Every book in this world we all read.
Dream catchers that catch every dream.
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Comments about this poem (..........Dream Catchers by Is It Poetry )
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