I wake up to a place between a memory and a dream,
a space of what is and might have been.
Worry and regrets mark the way,
often mislead by some dismay....
Right across the room, near the left door,
A soft beam falls on the floor,
The dream or the memory fades slowly,
taking with it the doubts and worry.
I wake up to a morning full of false promises of a new day,
with melting dreams and dismay.
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