Dreams deferred, are but dreams lost,
To dream itself, is to pay a high cost.
You lie awake, not sure what's true,
Sneak back to sleep, feeling blue.
Dreams recur, or are they nightmares?
You miss exams, are unprepared, who cares?
Finding yourself naked, in the street,
Or falling from heaven, on your feet.
The dreams haunting me, are quirky and strange,
I'm at a buffet party, stuffing my plate to the edge.
A momentary lapse, the plate is toppled and gone,
I'm hungry as before, the party's over, and I'm alone.
Do dreams have meaning? Should I have added what I need?
Does the overflowing plate, signify my bad luck or plain greed?
PS: This poem was first published on Medium here.
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