Dreams

they don't give a damn,
cigarettes in hand,
the land wasting away
under their watchful eyes,
with lies kept conveniently
in their pockets.
behinds their eyes,
in their sockets,
sometimes you see them
showing through the thin parts.
they have now neither
friends nor enemies
so die uncanny strangers—
the dangers of sometimes
thinking they remember love.
as the smoke gathers and
then falls behind, they
find a reason to wait,
too late to think, but wander,
and dream endlessly
of anywhere but here.
dream, town, dream
dream on…

Reviews

[Eagle Cruagh]

I like your dreams, they sound so
much like mine.
If only I would meet some of my old friends
in dreams, they are always new and really wierd.
But, I digress ! You write a most impressive dream,
the subject matter kind of sucks, but the writing is
really professional, very talented.
Thanks,
----- Eagle Cruagh

[pal]

lovely poem.. well expressed.
'with lies kept conveniently
in their pockets.
behinds their eyes,
in their sockets,
sometimes you see them
showing through the thin parts.'

bravo
pal

[Nykkiicia Cion]

interesting read