Pillow

May 31, 2012
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We meet each night when my well worn head is laid upon your breast
The familiar scent reminds me that life’s imaginings have yet to be born
And at 1 am on this endless night, I remain once more a weary guest.
Alas, there are those who look upon my dreams and ravage them with scorn.
Morpheus oh Morpheus: Why can’t they see?
My pain that stains your well worn flesh, though covered with a case
The scars remain and you my friend are the only one who sees.
With each stroke the monsters and dragons vanish without a trace.
My faith is starting to sink so I moan: please please please
Morpheus oh Morpheus: Come lie with me!





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