Wednesday, December 08, 2004

Sweet Dream

Gradually making your way towards that cane
Remembering laying on wet dreams’ stain
Patches of youth juice oozing without pain
Streamlets of your dream the proof of your strain
Wish those lips were real in the morning beam
Could have swore to love in those lucid steam
It was nothing less than one more sweet dream
Now I know one thing, Mother Nature’s mean

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