My Liquid Dream Poem by BiggRich Shuping

The Gong of reality's cymbals
Perforates the cloak of solid silence
As it resonates across tranquil fuculties
Of a man awoken to gather his thoughts

His motives are pure
But even purity is without blemish
In this realm
Where perfection is but a tangible illusion
But ours we create with our minds

We court hope but marry wishes
And dangle the ideal of perfection
Before reality like a ripe carrot
Before a starving horse
This I do for you my liquid dream
As you take shape and form to solidify
Images of you form in my mind
And I swear you look like love about to fly

You're a reality I'm certain I'll touch
A dream I'm sure to hold
Silence with a sound pure
You are perfection in an imperfect world
My promised tomorrow you are
My liquid dream