Posted: December 13, 2013 in Poetry, Prose
Tags: , , , ,


There was once a man that lost both his legs.

Every night he/d dream that his legs were still there.

He/d be running down the streets and through the green yards of his neighborhood, as he once did, as a child.

He told me,
I have to spend the first part of every morning, forgetting the dream, no matter how real it seems, and get back on with the reality.

You must dread nightfall, for it brings the dreams,
I told him.

Quite the opposite. The fact that I might run again, though it may be a dream, is what gets me through the day, he told me.


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