Last
Night,
I dreamed
A
Legion
Of
The
Dead
Came
And
Stood
Beside
My
Bed.
School
Friends
And
Guys
I dated,
Some
I loved
And
A
Few
I hated,
Holding
In
Their
Hands
Chances
I missed,
Pursing
Pale
Lips
I once
Kissed.
One
Had
A
List
Of
Old
Regrets,
The
Sort
One
Happily
Forgets,
Mistakes
Coiled
Like
Paper
Snakes,
In
A
Box
Made
Out
Of
Rocks.
I pulled
The
Cover
To
My
Chin
And
Before
I could
Confess
My
Past
Had
Been
A
Mess,
They
Faded
Into
The
Dawn,
And
Left
Me
To
Carry
On,
Heedless
Fool
That
Is
Me,
A
Last
Leaf
On
The
Tree.