If I were to accept

Running a few lines by a friend, and this happens. Odd write, but I like it. Paul Postma, you need to join the Cafe.

Easy to accept,

 life in complacency.

Drifting along in the standard reality.

Swimming in stagnant waters.

My reality changes at a whim,

 influenced by my dreams,

    and those around me not seen.

Easily lost,

 without a core.

"Like chocolate forsaking smore"

This is what is forgotten,

 and it should be the basic.

"Breath on cold windows Reveals the racing Of all that's lost we ought be embracing On gossamer paper we do the tracing... And still the old words speak the lore Of the raven's wisdom And the lost Lenore

This is what is forgotten.