The Dream

My dreams are fake But the realm exists But where can i Go and sleep There is not peace in some ones dream Some are sweet and some are not How can i go to bed When i know that soon I might die In my dream i run down hills I fall and roll to the ground Where do i turn? Where do i run? But there is nothing And no one around And soon i see it The end of my dream I know it's the end But i just can't wake Soon this figure is so close I feel its heat and smell of old But something different starts to happen The darkness turns to light The smell of old To smell of flowers in the night The heat of hate To the heat of love And then this figure is all on light What is happening? What do i do? Where do i run? Nothing matters I want to see What happens in this world of mine Is for me to know Soon this figure will hurt me here But no, not this time This figure is an older boy About the age of me He looks so lonely So out of place what do i do to such a face? But when he sees me His face lights up A smile A tear As he walk up to me I know not what to do But soon he's standing here Right beside me Leaning down i smell his skin Leaning up i feel his lips So soft but yet so sad And so i wake at last Hoping its done at last The next two days i have no dream So strange it seems to me The second day it seemed Somewhat out of place The air is filled with that one smell The smell of flowers in the night This boy is stand out of place On the curb of a bus stop He sees me and smiles and walks over toward me And then i remember that It was the Dream.