To dreams, my friends, those fickle things

That visit us at night

Those wondrous, dark, mysterious things

That’ll visit us tonight

And to their opposites,

Nightmares

Those scary, evil, nighttime frights that rob us of our sleep,

And to their counterfeits

Daydreams

Those magical, bright moments of bliss that melt the world away

To dreams, my friends, in all their forms,

Whether good or bad

They serve as warnings, omens, wishes,

Some make us feel so sad

While others, yes, a chosen few,

Show us wrong from right.

Dreams, my friends, are gifts from God,

Who, in his great insight,

Gave us dreams to serve as goals,

And give a point

To life.