There’s a strange mythical being,
at the end of my bed,
Although it doesn’t speak,
I know what it said,
Wishing me well,
And warmly to sleep,
I sneak another view,
Of the beast of my dreams.
***
Off I go now,
To the land of the mind,
Where centaurs rule,
And Minotaur mine,
May my journey be safe,
And not fraught with danger,
I will see you again,
When I wake from my slumber.
Author: The Pesky Poet
Never assume that you are no good at what you love as if you love it enough you will make it better. Take that form a dyslexic who was told they would never be able to write with any quality.
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