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Kleigh Dec 2018
In the world of reality
You are like a royalty
In a fairytale story
On our story, I'm a frog whose ugly
And you're a perfect prince charming
My life unexpected greatest blessing
Despite of what I am you still kiss me

Look on the mirror on the wall
You'll see a man admire by all
Who is lovely and white as snow
I never expect you'll love me more than I know

If fairy god mother really exist
I will thank her atleast
'Cos I have you more than an evening
And you find me even the glass shoe still missing
We live happily never after, as I wake up daydreaming
You're fantasy in my reality
Randy Mcpeek Jul 2016
Music to a song

I was sort of hoping,
that you would come along.
Like the answer to a prayer,
and the music to a song.

Like the kind of thing that happens
at a special place in time,
that will change my life forever,
like a fantasy of mine.

The fantasy was there before
I ever knew your name.
and now that I have found you
I will never be the same.

So,pardon if I look at you,
forgive me if I stare
at the fantasy I knew before
I saw you standing there.

For I was always hoping
that you would come along,
like the answer to a prayer
and the music to a song.

By

Randy McPeek
Iamdaimo Feb 2015
THE RED DIGITAL CLOCK REMINDS ME I AM at 21,112 feet,
a palindrome at 6.06 in the morning,
drifting from sleep to wake,
back to dreams of reality.
The man in my dreams.
The man of my dreams.
Somewhere over the rainbow,
crows scream ****** at each other and the world turns.
Men at work.
6:16 says the flashing clock,
flashing to remind me,
flashing to forget.
The man in my dreams
The man of my dreams.
Pilots fly me onwards
to a knowing destination,
a truly murky crystal of logic and stupidity.
The Chelsea hotel reminds me
that love is not dead,
that it lives on in the hearts of the workers of song,
at least for those of them left.
Mountains of things,
rings,
wedding bells chime and time,
time slowly marches by,
races,
paces,
one way streets.
Time.
Castles the colour of ink,
landscapes of pink mountains.
Snap back to reality.
The sun kisses the distant horizon,
as planes tear holes in the sky below
and the old women weep for the days that will never shine again.
But the children laugh for the days that are yet to be born,
the days of promise and peace,
war and understanding.
A new era?
A new beginning?
A twist in time to take us to where it all began
and the beautiful moon watches raucously from above,
smiling on his children,
sending kisses to his cheating lover, who still wrestles with the horizon.
Colour floods.
Grey, grey, grey.
A dulux of colour.
Man made.
Your body searches for me.
My mind wanders to other things.
The heat of your stare envelopes every pore of my being
and I freeze,
immersed in a mountain stream,
drenched in the sweat of love.
Doors open,
archways scream
and silence is our only food.
And yet reality still twists you from me.
The man of my dreams.
The man in my dreams.
Crows cry and children sing.
Happy nightmares, wearing thin.

— The End —