Come Play

July 11, 2015 - Poetry

I read an invitation to dream today.
The words formed a magical display,
that made me think of love and thoughtful hope
I would have cried if I could. But I know,
Just isn’t proper.

“Come sit,” it said, and spin me happy tales.
Stay with me tonight, beside shadows stale.
Learn how dreamers sleep and love, wake and live.
Do not let feelings close too tight, give
the world beauty.

Please don’t think I’m too strange because I love
the way i feel, or feel that I am above
all the usual norms of happiness.
I’m not. My life is still the proper mess
it was tomorrow.

Follow the stars if you would like to fly,
Go right ahead, don’t write, don’t say good bye.
The invitation is nice, lie, or spin,
dance or sing. No guilt, no sorrow, no sin.
Leave dark superstitions.

› tags: Poetry /

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