Searching
A room, I seek in nightly dreams.
Filled with supplies for work I do.
Hidden by day, at night it seems,
To be known by me, all so new.
Moving its location with clue.
Searching forever, I have done.
Never to believe, there is none.
Could it be my desires to find.
Or is it my mind, having fun.
Searching leaves me, totally blind.
Cecil Hickman
The Dream of Self
Constance ~ A Rambling Poet ~ for contest A Fragmented Dream~~
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