![](https://res.cloudinary.com/jerrick/image/upload/d_642250b563292b35f27461a7.png,f_jpg,fl_progressive,q_auto,w_1024/658d0f16ceb78e001dd4f905.jpg)
We are made of the stuff of Dream
Or so the Poet of Stratford said
And Real is not what it would seem
Sounds and visions echo and team
Though I am deep asleep in bed
For we are made of the stuff of Dream
The other sights I think I’ve seen
Were happening inside my head
Real is not what it would seem
Our fantasies form an endless stream
Of desire along with dread
We are made of the stuff of Dream
Whether following them or fleeing
Our time will soon be sped
Unless Real is not what it would seem
Perhaps we wake when we are dead
And then begin to live instead
If we are made of the stuff of Dream
And Real is not what it would seem
About the Creator
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Comments (1)
This was so profound and thought provoking! Loved your poem!