The elder poet

The dream store.

 

While walking down the broken path .

Concrete old and full of cracks .

I see a sign above the door . 

You get the dreams that you pay for .

 

From bloodshot eye\'s and snarled grin ,

The book he opened  . Said look within .

The dream you wish should be right there .

You pick the page . He brushed his hair .

 

Would you buy a dream of mother\'s breath ?

As she laid you down to rest .

Would you buy a dream of lady fair ?

Where she had not a thing to wear .

 

Would you buy a dream of youth and lust ?

Or maby of a friend you trust .

Riches that you never had .

Or a dream of when your dad got mad .

 

Pay me for the dreams you want .

Pay me now so they so those won\'t haunt .

A nightmare  is your life it seems .

You try so hard to stop the screams.

 

Your sleep it takes the world away .

Per chance you think the dreames will stay .

The day it wakes . From sweet dream slumber .

Where is that store . I forgot the number .