Twisted images chasing round my head,
My mind is whirring whilst my body's in bed.
Regurgitated news from the past few weeks,
Deformed in the night of my dream-filled sleep.
Echoing corridors and stark white rooms,
Familiar faces peering out from the gloom.
A most curious dream I don't want to forsake,
That slips through my fingers as soon as I wake.



(Made for a competition requiring you to make up a poem
based on your dreams on the spot).

xxx