But a Dream
A tug at my chest, a dream in my mind, Come to me my precious dream,
I wish for something that is not, and never shall be.
My waking dream, my futile hope
Cannot, will never… come to me.
My elusive whim, my fantasy.
Ever I picture its coming,
Though I know it shall never be.
Come to me my precious dream,
I wish for that which is forbidden,
And dangerous to the extreme,
And even during every dreaming,
I know it is but a dream.
If you like this poem, TELL ME SO! Review that is. If you're feeling especially kind, could you review my story-in-progress "Roll of the Die"?