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On the Wings of Dreams
by
Rusty Broadspear
He was fumbling for words
Stumbling around, he knocked over a chair,
He was spinning. Or was it the room?
He told her he loved her but she wasn't there.
Lifting his bottle of brain musher
He toasted all the other lonelies, there are many.
Crying turned to manic laughter,
Loads of musher but no money, not a penny.
He gulped and choked and fell,
Heart so heavy in this hell, he thumped the floor.
Anger, sorrow, sadness and much more,
He couldn't fake it and couldn't take it anymore.
Patience, his main asset, had flown
On the wings of his dreams riding listless air.
Dark night spilled through the window,
Darkening his thoughts further, he didn't care.
TV screen, a broken gaping hole
Staring blindly at a hi-fi unit lying on its side.
Like life, immersed in total disarray
He spoke her name, then cried until his eyes had dried.
Then, on the wings of a dream of another,
A light appeared in the darkest corner of the room.
A computer screen, incoming mail.
Despair conceded, slunk away, wearing its cloak of doom.
Life was not as bad as I've said,
It was his imagination exploding and running riot.
He returned love on the wings of his dreams,
He sipped Earl Grey and tasted her, in peace and quiet.
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