Tired of this Dream
I dreamed I was somewhere.
At some hospital, Somewhere.
A woman dressed as a nurse,
a man and I stood by a bed.
In it, lay and old man
with red, shriveled legs.
He was obviously dying.
The nurse said one of us
would have to cut off his
legs.
I said I would because
it needed to be done.
But as I held the scalpel,
I realized I wasn’t a doctor
and shouldn’t be amputating.
So I told the man to do it.
But the nurse said that
I couldn’t back out now.
As the scalpel in my hand
came closer to the diseased
legs,
I said, “I’m tired of this
dream,”
and woke myself up.
