Past Is Dreaming


As I lay deep asleep, but not as deep as dead.
My mind drags me down into my distant past.
It dwells on wrinkled pages of yellow fading fast.
It lives in happy pictures, printed in black and white.
It lingers on your smile, so serious and bright.
My deepening mind takes me far away. To lands of childhood.
It travels to the time when I believed in good?
Love was passionate then..
It journeys to my kingdom,
to the home that is no more then a house now.
It visits my exasperate parents, and knocks on boarded doors...
My mind steals my present, and slowly drains my life.
It carves my perfect memories, with cruel jugged knives.
It likes to taste them randomly,until I cannot scream.
It loves to tell me...
That my past,was nothing but a dream..

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem