Category : Poems
Sub Category : N/A
Another old poem.
A voice called out to me in my sleep,
And I didn’t so much as make a peep.
For its ease only brought a peace to my slumber
As it reflects sounds of play, I wish it would never be over,
But I awoke from my sleep to reap
The sounds of reality that chooses not to cease;
The voice is real and I am its sheep
Following its joyous laughter to a neglected foreshadow of my emotional release.
There she is twirling and spinning about in keen bliss
Amongst the dark halls that often consume me easily,
It was a happening that cannot be neglected or dismissed
For everything I see, running prideful and free.
How many truly understand you
And see you pass a queer intimidation and divine beauty?
Is it my right to question what’s divine and true?
Yet, forgive me father, this woman should never feel blue.
A woman by the true definition
Demonstrating each characteristic that can stop a man’s heart,
A woman who deserves to be valued as the pearl or appreciated as the ocean
Because she has her way to depreciate the finest art,
The way she flaunts upon the canvas.
I smile to the thought.
She looks over to me and we share a smile,
Though I know what it is in that while.
It is not truly for me
As mine isn’t what it seems,
Because I know it will never be
So it’s safe to say, you are only right in my dreams