A Figment Of Reality

My sleep is cursed with nightmares,

It's the time the ghosts of my fears haunt me.

It's a miracle how I never remember the nice dreams, how rare,

But the bad ones stick around for years, I can guarantee. 

My heart dies a bit every time,

I hear someone say dreams are a figment of reality.

For if my nightmares were reality, we just brought upon us wintertime,

And dark clouds would hang around forever, scary, hopeless and beastly. 

I'm glad I have people to shake me from it,

Whisper "It was a dream" in my ear.

Because if I didn't, it'd tear me apart, bit by bit,

I'm the luckiest to have people who make me feel happy to be here.