When You Die, It Will Be Your Dreams That Are Remembered Poem by Chris G. Vaillancourt

Lucid dreaming is the doorway
to the unconscious.
So dream.
Do not stay closed
behind cement barricades
blocking the moon
from shining.
Live.
Each second is for you.
The tumbling of life
does not promise
anything.
In one breath
you can have
a time table
handed to you.
A distinct framework
of how much
longer you shall be.
Stay in illusion.
Keep in mind
that very little
is worthy of
being screamed about.
Politics
and
people games
are not
the substance
of existing.
Picture colourful images
that flutter
playfully
across the
mental horizon.
A traffic light
will
blink
red, yellow, green.
A noise
will dominate
the shading sky.
These mean nothing.
Moments of distraction
soon
gone away.
Focus on fantasy.
Allow yourself
the freedom to
celebrate
the essence
of harmony.
When you die,
it will be
your dreams
that are
remembered.
Breathe.
It's just
a bad day,
not a bad life.