The Fragility of Dreams

My hopes are bubbles on the wind,
shimmering in an array of beautiful color.
I reach out to make one my own,
to catch it in my hand and know that it is real.
But as my finger grazes its surface,
POP!!
The bubble bursts in front of my face,
the remnants of my hope splashing in my eye,
leaving the sting of the failure.
As I try to wipe away the burn,
I see the fragility of dreams,
and the futility of the pursuit of them.