He chronicled her dreams She wasn't even a queen Was he dressed in a many coloured tunic? Was he there taming the lions? Was he Freud born again? Why did he really care? He perused every grey cell in her head He made sure he caught her before she went to bed He kissed her good morning too Wasn't that a dainty thing to do? It seems he was only catching dreams He didn't stop till she had to muffle her screams. She escaped with a broken aorta or two The pieces of her life askew The dreams were distorted now With the dreamcatcher in the front pew Sometimes he performed to his dismay And she was left smothered in mildew She had to leave she woke up Enough was bloody enough It took her a year or two But she finally figured who was who The Dreamcatcher toyed with her head He just took the route through her head
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
1/27/2021 6:31:24 PM # 1.0.0.448