Mad Mud

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At night, I dream of hidden screams,in bloodied mud.Small bears, the only ones with smiles,reach out to tiny friends,taken.One by one by one by…There are darker dreams than those in my head,in the minds of the maniacal,who would love to invade...

At night, I dream of hidden screams,
in bloodied mud.
Small bears, the only ones with smiles,
reach out to tiny friends,
taken.
One by one by one by…
There are darker dreams than those in my head,
in the minds of the maniacal,
who would love to invade my mind with more.
How I wish I could tell you.
How I wish I could show you.
Perhaps, if we just wait?
There is no time to wait.
You have to remember,
for the past awaits those who forget.
It’s November,
I walk among you,
and I hear hungry hate,
salivating at scapegoating.
It never wakes me,
for I never sleep.
While the mud has cleared,
and the “showers” traded for baths,
they could still be coming,
and I’m not ready to be next.

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