Dream

Dreammidnight.mp3

It had been such a lovely dream.
Why must I always wake
to find
it’s fake
it’s in my mind
or so it seems
and once again you’re so far away.

I miss you before you’re even gone
because I know you’ll go,
I’ll be alone
as time rolls on
until some date yet unknown;
I count the days.

Dreams
come in fragments:
music, pictures
flitting quickly past
before they’re burned, they’re lost;
they never last.
I recall
your hands on my guitar,
the low glow
of your not-ipod in the car
and the long way to go
that reminds us that we are
once again so far away
(time rolls rolls rolls rolls on)
and I wake with morning’s light;
godsdamn dawn.

So I wander halls of memories
of dreams, of what perhaps could be,
or were, or could’ve been. Please,
tonight, will you dream of me?

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