I Walked My Dreams Into a Cornfield and Shot Them

January 14, 2009
Orbiting a troubled mind,
Is what they called my dreams.
No matter.
They were right.
Here I lie my dreams to rest.
Eyelids heavy in the dying light.
Nestled in the crypt of hope.
And to give them up was right.
Vapors of memories may haunt me tomorrow.
Yet I feel no regret today.

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