In dreams, young Leo danced on Saturn's rings, No gravity could dampen his strut. A disco king in space with glow-in-the-dark bling, He moonwalked past comets, smooth as a cut.
One night, he dreamt of a sandwich divine: He built it on Mars with a Martian chef. "Pickles, regret, cosmic cheese, and brine." He sang, though tone deaf.
Leo dreamt of bacon with pan-flare bravado, Collapsed into pancakes. He woke with a start, Everything burnt, including a roasted avocado. "What again?" Clutching his heart.
That night, he flew on a spoon through soup skies, Woke up laughing, the dawn all aglow- With new ambition in his eyes, And made that sandwich. (It tasted just so.)
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Dreams (E) What you dream about says a lot about what you're feeling, going through, or obsessed with
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