Reoccurring Dream
I have awakened to an odd sort of place
A room unfamiliar, extravagant, and lace
A bed so grand and remarkably soft
A floor of wood and pictures aloft
A heavenly sent bombards my senses
My guard is down exposed defenses
Another beside me stirs about
Shocking me slightly to force a roust
From under the blankets emerges a pup
A handful at most no bigger than a cup
Back in bed I wrestle the stranger
Bellowing loudly devoid of danger
All at once a jolt brings me back
A cane to the face a large “Thwack”
My eyes strain through the new found tears
Returning my attention to all my old fears
I am back in the orphanage with the other kids
With ragged old cloths and bruised eyelids
Drifting back to sleep, I want to dream again
Of the grand ol’ room and pup my friend.
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