Dreams Poem by Quame Boatmann

As perpetual as they come
A drama we watch comatose
So genuine in nature
For we ourselves are characters
Sometimes we adore, other times we despise

Oh the wonder it is!
As I lay below the silent starless sky
Dead to the mortal world
And trusting in the life of the spook
In the drama of my unknown world
Having nowhere to escape
A helpless character with no script
In a drama I’m unaware
Which tittle is known to the strange playwright
But for my consciousness, I’d be dead
And till we are awake, it’s never a dream