Mine are pretty and kind, and kind of sly to the untrained eye.
My only friends throughout the night of endless dreams.
And yet, they are my only friends it seems.
Distant people through a kolida scope colors of true distorted truths.
I feel sad for them really, and I blinded myself.
I didn't seem to realize I was even there.
The beautiful silk glazed over my eyes.
I seem to be dreaming.
I come to myself, watching me sleep.
Did I wake in a dream?
Did they rip off the covers?
They came to me in pieces.
What should I do?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The beautiful silk glazed over my eyes. I seem to be dreaming. I come to myself, watching me sleep. Did I wake in a dream? very fine poem. we ourselves do not know what all are going on in us. you expressed it so well in this poem. tony