MY DREAMS...

MY DREAMS The incurable sores on innocent tongues as if in some smothering dreams In all my dreams before my helpless sight I say unto thee my dreams cherished into using scientifc notation, like in poetry of war Im afraid to bend double like old beggars under sacks,coughing like hags my dreams are dreams dare to dream or maybe its a critical poem Lost tribes in language mutter in my dreams like the rythm of spanish Beauty standing motionless before My mirror sees behind me Its like standing in a long queue in an unknown corridor My dreams, My aims like a corrupt bankupt in hope to disrupt its about to erupt and just corrupt us. my dreams are cuddling up like Ring-a-ring o roses A pocket full of roses Another cliche they are all just our dreams My dreams I dream...