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The Beauty of a Dream
a faded fantasy
has undergone years of atrophy
a melancholic smile
at least it once was

a bespoke carpet
has undergone years of compression
tied up like a prisoner, you'll never get the bugs off
you wish it's wings took off

a magenta shade that shone as bright
as the blaze you slept next to those nights
as well crafted as your spirit
it held up as long as you could hear it

a friend you explored with regularly
and then discarded of negligibly
it's ends no longer lay flat on the floor
the tainted stains won't rub off

a starved being that you have distorted
gielded ideas but you couldn't afford them
led by blissful ignorance
you must now restore it

you scrub and tire
you burn the bugs with fire
you itch to feel as inspired
as when you saw the beauty of a dream as a child
© angel_ap