When at dusk the birds are still in their nests
And the market silent in darkness
Only the burning lamp is awake

We slumber quietly into unconscious realm
And dream of great things in good places
Reunited with our infant prayers
Our pains are suspended
Our tears are stopped for a while

Then a rat stumbles on unwashed plates
And street automobiles announce the coming of a new dawn

Startled to life from the distant realm of bliss
All the struggles we left behind yesterday
In a cruel dash rush back at us
For sadness do not go away with sleep
They only hide as snares
Waiting patiently to haunt us again

Sometimes we dream dreams
Sometimes we live life
Yet sometimes we wish our lives were dreams
And that our dreams were lives

© Olatuja Oloyede