A shooting pain in my head, and
my eyes flew open,
my muddled mind gropes for reality.
Where am I, I wonder?
I see myself on the damp ground, and
an ugly, stout fellow towering over me.
He seems to be shouting furiously at me, but
I cannot comprehend anything.
My head is throbbing badly.
This overpowering man
lifts me up roughly by my collar.
I hear him shout, “You lazy bum, sleeping on your duty.
How dare you!
I did not employ you as a guard of your angels,
but to guard against thieves!”
Saying this, he marched off in a huff.
And I stood there, frozen like a statue
my shoulders slumped,
my eyes with a faraway look.
I sighed! Alas!
It was just a dream,
a mere dream,
a pleasant dream on a wet, callous bench.
And a dream’s a dream; nothing more
And dreams never always come true
Or , do they?