wishing for something better

April 3, 2010
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A night without streetlights, that glare orange bright,
Leaving stripes across my sleeping face,
It’s like a tiger leaving dreams,
Of a better place, or so it seems,
Then you wake and wake and keep on waking,
The morning cold, so you leave shaking,
From that bed until that night,
Where you wake without a fight.
Because those dreams were real.

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