Wednesday, March 18, 2015

POEM: "A Dream"

A Dream

Yea, though I dreamt 
I was in a horrid place
Full of terrible words
I could not swim away
Steamy towers, rest in fog
And our concrete mama
Was not self-healing
Later when I woke
I fished and fished
And fished for my soul
And when I caught it
I never gave it away again.

© 2015 Rob Schackne

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