Naked of all but my dreams.
The stars laugh at me.
They were what I am now.
I am a dreamer who hasn't learned about dreams.
I know that the dreams I have have no place in this world.
But they have no place any where.
Dreams are the madness the mind creates when it needs peace.
Dreams are the child who makes faces in the clouds.
That child streaks naked across the sky as I do.
Will it get burned?
What chance has that child to survive the madness its mind has created?
It will join the rest of the stars and burn out.
Dreams are the very air we breath.
The very particles we are made up of are dreams.
Whose madness has created us?
copyright (c)2007 T.A. Chase
Also, stop by Liquid Silver Books tonight around 6 to pick up Lisa Andel's newest release Demon Hunting. I'll give you a link when it goes live. :)
Labels: Poetry Train