A Bad Dream Poem by Ardimus Caldwell

Not making since of what's going through
Not waking up the same
More swet rolling down the face
Feel growing as if I am a child
Cloeing my eye's with thoughts that kills the soul
Getting even wrose
Becoming worser than the dreams I thought that couldn't get worse
My head going different ways on the pillow that earsed my thoughts
Twisting and turning in the sheets that once protected me from harm
Then I awaken from this bad dream