Dreams Poem by George Hunter

Now I lay me down to dreams
Life's not always what it seems.
Sometimes, to just get through the day
I have to dream my life away.
Of some things I am not certain
Reality's behind a curtain.
What is real and what is not
One can't tell upon the spot.

What's a dream and what is real
Is very hard to tell by feel.
Sometimes dreams are very pleasant
Like eating caviar and pheasant
But other times they turn bad fast
But those kinds don't have to last.
Just wake yourself and then they're gone
And forgotten by the dawn.

While real life, on the other hand
Is like a castle made of sand.
Events change fast, not always for the best
We have to hope we'll pass the test.
If things get rough when we are dreaming
We force ourselves to wake up screaming
But when awake and things go bad
There's no escape from that, my lad.

If only we could pinch ourselves
And go TO a dream
Wouldn't that be an all right scheme?
To go back and forth between parallel worlds
Would surely keep our wits unfurled.

But a lot of stuff is speculational
By scientists who seem semi-rational.
Like time warps, black holes, and string theory
That make dimensions very bleary.
Some of these ideas could even be true
Think about it
That's all I'm asking you.