The sweet cane dream

Once upon a random daze of night,
the man slept through the gaze of his might.
He crashed and went into the hold of dreams
his crooked mind was let off like leaves in streams.
Through the pebble and dirt of the nothingness
his celestial thoughts thought of nothing less.
He had a magic cane in his hand
which has powers that none could even understand.
A grab of the polished willow stick
made him a wise old arrogant prick.
Strangers saw his black and white beard grow
as the dream he was in went by really slow.
Still with the cane, his alter-ego lived;
his lips carrying the remains of cigarette he lit.
Kins and foes stood in the trace of the line
to steal on the wisdom of this old and arrogant swine.
“Be as you are” the old man said
and he lost the cane to his soul that is dead.
He never again got the glimpse of this dream
if it does, his euphoric core of the life would scream.

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