morning comes too soon.
you've left
so many dreams on the table.
abruptly
leaving one or two
in the muddled middle.
maybe you can pick up
where you left off when
get home tonight
and go to bed.
but you doubt it.
dreams don't work that
way, do they?
these are all FICTIONAL stories and characters and are in no way representative of any real
experiences in my or anyone else's life. any similarities are purely coincidental, except for the dog poems.
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