Some Dreams

I live not, my dream. Sometimes, I think...you are. I know you, as I know each day...each hour. You are no surprise, and that's what aggravates...that prescience of everything, yet you deny...as if...you weren't  mine. You tend, to play, as if you care...yet, you haven't...one. In all your nights, with all your loves...you simply, do not complicate yourselves...with such...tedious things.


Written By Bruce James Clyde 2016, Deming, New Mexico

Photo Credit: keridoolittlephotography.com