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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1962445
by Twitch
Rated: 13+ · Other · Emotional · #1962445
Poem about crushed dreams
Tis a pretty thing to glean a dream,
to reach out to touch it and see its reflection;
like streaming waters rushing over rugged round boulders;
like a spirit willingly giving its life.

Mine eyes doth look upon thy spirit,
what type of spirit are thee;
to catch mine eye with thine radiance and power,
to shimmer sunshine, the orb's light in multitude.
Fragile yet strong amongst the fearful of doubts.

I reach, my hand but a grasp away,
feeling thy radiance and power like the warm light of day.
But oh i do fall in dismay
my glean, my spirit, taken away
to fall into that which should not hold,
a darkness of which is much too cold.

Hands that should not have touch of thee;
that should not kill thy will easily
to crush a spirit tis a dreadful woe,
a dream, a glimmer, but naught to sew.

© Copyright 2013 Twitch (daisukeeniwaa at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1962445