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Dream Time A cold wind blows across my wayward soul, As remnants of a nightmare awake me. My truculent thoughts trumpet through the night, As melancholy nightingales take flight. My faraway fears seem dream like, yet real, As I ponder the relentless ordeal. The muse in my mind says time after time, Dreadful dreams are mere withering wishes. |
Additional Notes:
A century ago, Sigmund Freud wrote that a dream was merely a wish. Freud's statement was the inspiration for this poem. Dream Time was published on poetry.com.
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