Love Poems & Poetry

And there I laid and squirmed on my stolen bed,
Thinking of any sentence to own things I couldn’t hold or see,
I dreamt of dreaming…

Being everybody’s afternoon fool,
I stroke my pride with such condescending behavior,
That ashamed the very grasp on myself.

And inside my dream,
I was rewarded with tears of gold,
That crystallized themselves into servants with black-top ties,
And a two speared fork,
To eat my forever-lasting sundae.

I danced and sang with the ability of a thousand artists.
I was clapped upon and smiled at,
From people whose beauty surpassed the number eight.

And then finally,
I was granted a memorial to my own image.

A memorial with the ability to engrave my accomplishments, beauty, grace, and dignity.

I, as well,
Was bedazzled by the marvelous carving.

I had everything I had before been unable to see or hold,
Yet in my dream…
I was still longing for the essence reality.

That was the time, and the moment,
When I realized that a man is not a man—-but is nothing more than dust and water—–,
Without his own delusion.

(1 votes, average: 4.00 out of 5)

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