Each time I look into a mirror There are a hundred things that move And I am well to be afraid of the things I cannot see Because every night is a well crafted nightmare Created just for me And to think that something in my psyche Loves so much to torment me. Isn't that sweet. Copyright (c) by M.R. Haden 1997
Reason for writing:
I don't dream often; when I do, they are nightmares. This is about that.Birth sign: Not entered
You need to log in to edit this poem if it is yours.
View more poems by M.R. Haden.