Dreams are like Netflix, but with eyes closed.
And todayβs poem is about all kinds of dreams, long and short, happy and sad, thrilling and boring.
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Alright, poem starts in 3β¦ 2β¦ 1!
Everyday before I wake,
I travel realms and places fake.
A fiction bursting at its seams.
A world of weird and crazy dreams.
It's fake but feels so real somehow,
when I see an eight-legged cow,
upon a fiery, blazing farm,
with headless chickens, full of charm.
With wizards, lizards, dragons, crimes.
With sights of past and future times.
With stadiums full of sporty teams.
A world of weird and crazy dreams.
And then I think, that if I try,
that if I try, I could just fly!
I give in fully, spread my arms!
And then
.
.
.
I hear the damned alarm.
πβ°π
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See you next week.