Dreams . . . Dreams Dreams Dreams Some monochrome some rainbows it pokes me and stir me awake sometimes I stand a midst the crowd chit-chats of people, shop-keepers bargaining and someone dragged me. I reached a glass house a baby cries for me, who am I to the baby? The house is filled with antiques Bronze, the familiar colour the papers,clothes,-- people bear bronze in them. A bronze man pulled me where has the baby gone? sunlight came in red, was the glasses red? Then I see myself running it was me who has turned red There was cuts and bites which had a pinch of bronze in it I ran and ran towards my blue in the rainbow Blue was my colour or rather it was dark blue or as people call it-- Black Yellow, orange, red makes me bleed its the monochrome I'm attached to I found solace in dark It has eyes,ears,mouth,nose and limbs and it engulf you into eternity Dreams Dreams Dreams Never leave me to reality . . .