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If Life's A Nightmare, What's A Dream?

©2009 Bailey Thompson

 

As he lay in his warm bed

Visions of perfection danced in his head

While tears of pain were shed

During the day when he wished he was dead

 

For him, night was perfect

He would drift away and dream

And days were filled with neglect

Too many tears, whispers and screams

 

Why? His father liked to drink

His mother was long since dead

His father didn’t care, he didn’t think

The boy found happiness with dreams in his head

 

Tonight was like any other

As he drifted off to sleep

Alone without a mother

To tuck in his sheet

 

He drifted to a deep slumber

He couldn’t hear the glasses banging

Like they had ever since he could remember

He couldn’t hear the ice cubes clanging

 

He was only dreaming

But it was better than reality

For the reality was missing,

Forgotten was his dad’s mean personality

 

He could see his mom stand there

Too far to touch, close enough to see

The wind whipped through her blonde hair

As she walked toward him, happy as could be

 

Her arms wrapped around him

And she kissed him on the cheek

She told him she loved him

That she hadn’t seen him since last week

 

She held his hand

And led him farther

Through the unknown land

Then she sat, he sat beside her

 

Where he was, he didn’t know

But he was with his mother

So it didn’t matter, wherever they go,

As long as he stayed with her

 

She looked deep into his eyes

And asked about his father

He didn’t make up lies

He told her not to bother

 

She went very quiet then

She didn’t say a word

“I’m sorry” She said when

there was nothing else to be heard

 

He wanted to stay with her forever

He loved her more than he had his Dad

He knew better: They’d never be together

In real, like before, what they had

 

“Where are we?” He finally said

His mother answered, “We’re in heaven”

Then he realized it – he was dead

“You died, you were only seven”

 

He didn’t care that he died

He didn’t care he was in heaven

He just wanted to be by his mother’s side

He knew this, even at age seven.

 

As he lay in his warm bed

The dream of perfection danced in his head

While tears of pain were shed

During the day when he wished he was dead

 

Author's Note: This was written for an english project. We had to write a poem based on a photo. I was given a photo of a sleeping boy, hugging a teddy-bear. He looked innocent in the photo, but I felt there should be more behind the picture than what meets the eye.