A Poem written about hearing voices from people of the past coming to you when you dream. When you need to hear those exact words.

Last night I saw some faces

That I thought I'd never see again.

Their faces hadn't changed,

But mine has, since then.

I know that I was dreaming,

But I won't forget what was said

Almost advice that I had needed,

Even though they are all dead.

When I am searching for the answers,

You come to me at night,

Whisper the words I need to hear: "

I have the will to fight."

You may have left this earth;

I watched you age and die.

Yet you still reach out when I need you

And whisper, "Live, don't cry."

The memories, they fade with years;

Photos are just a capture in space.

The younger generations won't ever know

The lines of laughter on your face.

I grow into the generation

Where time is rushing past,

But you are with me in my dreams at night,

Allowing me to live on and still last.


Submitted: February 09, 2025

© Copyright 2025 deanfraserphillips. All rights reserved.

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Thomaswcase8'.

Superb

Sun, February 9th, 2025 4:18pm

Bert Broomberg

A wonderful poem. Very recognizable.

Mon, February 10th, 2025 1:52pm

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