I catch myself throughout the day,
Thinking of a dream.
While in my self confessions,
With the whispers and the screams,
I see and feel things from the past,
And it’s as if they just occurred,
Wounds and scars that always bleed,
To the negatives I’m referred.
At times these eyes are filled with tears,
But sometimes there’s inner laughter,
And as I’m taken by a dream,
What’s before and what is after,
The day becomes a hidden thought,
That the heart grasps oh so tightly,
And though it surfaces in the day,
It’s the remnant of what visits nightly.
An emotional fog settles in,
As the day becomes the night,
Heart and mind battle on,
In what seems an endless fight,
A dream becomes a better place,
Then the frigid here and now,
As a smile hovers over the heart,
To find what’s lost somehow.
The heart becomes an ally,
Yet the mind becomes the foe,
Holding on to the dreams,
And the tears that can not show,
The here and now just disappears,
With the present held by the past,
And as a smile invades the face,
It’s a reminder of what still lasts.
The dream at night becomes so real,
That in the light it’s hard to see,
A daydream seems to take the place,
Of a heart that once was free,
If chains are something used to bind,
Is the heart chained to a dream,
Is it the mind that seems to forge,
The links of a chain that screams.
The daydream’s such a familiar place,
That it’s anticipated each day,
A dream that struggles to be free,
Just needs to find it’s way,
A whisper soon opens up the heart,
Thought to the mind it seems a scream,
And each day love lifts it’s head,
Because it lives in each daydream.