Poetry by Charles Joseph

Dead Dreams

There’s a graveyard in my house.
Dreams in the tears on my pillow;
Dead Dreams of long ago, on my pillow.

Shaking fingers
Chasing strangers
A trumpet is blown,
A grave is owned

Tear drop.

There are Dead Dreams in my house.
Dreams that have Passed way too long ago
To be Resurrected.

I ponder to myself,
Shovel after shovel:
“I could have held tighter;
It could have lived longer.”

Dead Dreams in my soul
A graveyard on my heart
Crosses, tombstones rising out of my chest.
When I’m sad, I wonder if it is because
There are too many Dead Dreams?
When I’m happy, I wonder if it is because
There are too many spirits?

Dead Dreams in my vessel
Dead Dreams in my house.
My steps are never gentle
For I travel with force

They’re trying to pull me under.

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4 responses to “Dead Dreams”

  1. This is my favorite piece of yours so far. Just wow. So incredible and I felt every single word – this one hit home. You have a powerful voice! That is the mark of true talent.

    1. I appreciate it brother! It always means so much to me when I can communicate my feelings this well to someone. Thank you!

      1. Anytime, Charles – I know how important it is for writers to communicate and support each other. I appreciate the feeling as well – keep on doing a great job on these poems!

        1. Thank you! And I will!

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