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Did you dream last night?
The visions haunting his nights
Aren’t what you call dreams.
They are plagued with ghosts and
Figures from the past, who he carries with him
Like the sky to Atlas’ shoulders.
His mouth torn open, a scream released,
A bullet from its barrel.
No, he says,
I didn’t dream last night.
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What inspired this poem are the terrible nightmares my friend gets.