Dreaming's Art
He could see
that she loved him;
no, more like Idol Worship.
'You' she said
'are the Man of my Dreams
my Prince Charming.
Everything you touch
turns to gold
including me.
I laid down my heart for you
hand pressed my soul for you,
danced round your Maypole
like a young girl in spring.
You populated my every dream;
you in my eyes-
could do no wrong or harm-
you were my dreams' dream.
He: said:
I see now my dear
this was Dangerous Praise
and Deadly Love
at least for me.
I felt in love too
but more with your
image of me,
not as I really was.
And so as not to disappoint
I pretended to believe
the image of me
dancing in your eyes
but in doing so
I participated in
the subterfuge;
creating someone
who was only a facsimile
of the real me
who
then
went into hiding
dreading to be discovered.
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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