In A Dream, That Lay So Flat... Poem by Michael Gale

In a dream tho' weaved by mine...
Innately returned, honestly Divine.

For upon thy path, taken, in turn...
Respect for oneself, need been, earned.

A path that splinters into forks, of awed signs...
Originates from a machinery's most, imaginative designs.

Like a bicycle's many bent, and broken spokes...
Hell bent on an accidental, arrival, at monetary failure
for a most wanting handout, from your folks.

The road now taken, is erroneously ridden...
With many bumps and holes from winding far and wide,
This snake to you, has obviously bitten.

One can no longer, stay well balanced, in his ride...
It is now plain to see, that we've, become obtusely wide.

Tumbling...
Faster, still, -
-Alas, still,
erroneously, fumbling.

Landing and crashing into the sudden-ed grass...
A whole pile of bleeding, this aching, sore mass.

Give up, give up, the hope of heart...
Now you've learned, that you are smart.


Defeat...
Is so sourly,
Non, sweet.