Dreams
Every wonder where they come from?
I’m just glad that I still get some.
Sometimes they’re pleasant and seem good,
sometimes vague and misunderstood.
At times they’re funny or bizarre,
like riding on a shooting star.
Often it seems they’re teaching me,
past life lessons I didn’t see.
Sometimes one seems like dejavu,
in another time I was you.
Then there was one, I wasn’t a man,
my whole body was made of sand.
Dreams are intriguing, so much fun.
Recurring dreams are never done.
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