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Sweet Dream

An ode to morning wood
Dawn finds my window on the prairie
Open to a new day, though I'm wary.
Why rise so early? The clock has yet to rule;
Still an hour before I'm off to school.

And so I return to the twilight realm,
Not fully conscious, but far from rem.
My Sweet Dream rides in on a prairie breeze;
Languid lover, inexplicable tease.

She invades a place uniquely mine
Where reality and fantasy intertwine.
Without any form or substance or voice,
She rapes me gently, I have no choice.

Riding my passion, she's so exquisite;
Galloping faster, I'm unable to inhibit
The prize she seeks filling her womb.
With a licentious giggle she leaves the room.

Suddenly the alarm buzzes so rudely,
And reality forces its way so crudely
Into my precious, intimate space;
I must arise and join the rat race.

Arise I must,
Until the morrow, I trust;
When I'll begin another day with my Sweet Dream;
And dare I mention, a handful of cream.

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