If I were to pick such dreams from my mind
And throw them to the floor
I wonder as much as wonders go
What would creep out

Would I see that inside seeps with summer days
And morning picnics
Kisses at an elderly age and grand-kids
What would creep out

Would I see living people once thought dead
Would reality pivot at its side
Causing me to go against gravity's pull
What would creep out

Would I find tears flowing out
Ones not known to me, but mine nonetheless
Whether from happiness, sadness, or a mixture of raindrops
What would creep out

Or would I find me walking tall
Not me, but a better me
Taking a breath and breathing in better days
What would I find in a cracked dream

?