I awoke one morning from a powerful dream
my brain all flustered as if powered by steam
The images so haunting they had to be saved in word
my imagination could not write it, how absurd
As my pen hovered over my empty note book
should my dream be told, could I be mistook  
Then my powerful dream emptied into the cold morning air
left me saddened and empty and full of despair
                                    BUT
I look at it as not a crash, but a very close miss
Because I wouldn't of been able to entertained you by writing this