Freudian Slip

I live in my own minds world,
And quietly do my own thing.
I’d let you in,
Contrary to what is around,
But it gets full in here
From time to time.

There may be a Freudian slip of the tongue,
While reading Books that hold no rhyme.
I see cloudy childhood dreams,
The Lands of lost escape, and
I whisper to the fire flies that guide the night.

I hear shadows of the past,
And tales that were madly sprung.
I laugh myself to sleep,
With To be’s or not to be’s
The shakespeare quest for me.

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