Member-only story
Delicate Dreams
A Poem
sometimes sleep is sweet —
and it’s easy to lose myself again
in the soft waves of a familiar slumber
that reminds me of days when i was young.
i could fly,
i could tour the world,
i could see the seven wonders —
all from the comfort of my bed.
but life’s not kind like that
since dreams end swift
and hopes die just as quick,
at least in this life of mine.
sometimes lies taste better,
as fine as wine and smooth as silk,
because it’s so much easier to fool ourselves
than it is to live a true life with our heads held high.
i could run,
i could own the castle,
i could take fate in my hands —
so many ways to find meaning in existence.
but life’s not smooth like that
since love withers on the vine
and plans fade as the story changes,
at least in this wayward trend.
