Dreams of Memories,
or
Memories of Dreams

Swirling colors, old faces,
All seem out of dreams;
Memories of old places . . .
Nothing’s as it seems.

Dreams, memories, is there a difference?
Memory is nothing but the past,
Yet, it is worth remembrance,
Memories of long ago can last.

Yet, it always seems a dream.
Unreal colors dance though the mind,
Always filled by things that scream
of the past, but doubt enters the mind.

"Is it real, or is it false?
What was the reality?"
Now, in my mind, a silent pulse
Works with the memories frailty.

Dream, memory; memory, dream,
They will both fade away,
Nothing is how it used to seem,
But they remain so for a day.

The become one in the same, dreams and memories,
And through it all, they team
with familiarity, but is it a dream of a memory?
Or the memory of a dream?