Dreams

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

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