I am not sure if what I am writing is poetry or just cheap greeting card versus. I am finding this enjoyable though.
Like stardust glowing in the very corners of our minds
Dreams are the flame that keeps us warm on those cold black nights
We draw life from them like an infant draws milk at his mother’s breast
Occasionally we reluctantly let one go, though the loss always takes a little piece of our soul
Our dreams are one thing we can believe in when our floor falls beneath us
We release them with our dying breath where they sail free to find another nest