Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Biographical · #884720
Adult dreams reflect anxiety.
|I have dreams because I'm human,|
But I settle just to cope.
Reality chips my mettle,
But Pandora gives me hope.
The dreams dreamt up by children
Always change and wilt with age.
Reality stunts imagination's dance
And childrens' visions are far more sage.
Dreams of flying spaceships
And playing baseball like The Babe,
Gave way to dreams of promotions
And money to get from day to day.
When reality chips the childs' dream
They simply go to mommy for a hug.
With age we drink, we smoke, we grin and bear
And start each day anew with coffee's drug.
Children's days are much too short
And night's respite keeps them strong.
Later on, the days won't end
And spite of night makes darkness long.
If children knew that fun times don't last forever
Would they know to enjoy them even more,
Making sure that each day's dreams and fun
Surpassed the dreams and fun of days before?
If grown-ups could regain their long lost dreams,
Would they be too stiff to try and take a chance,
Making sure that each day's dollars are enough,
While imagination forgets to do its dance?
I had grand dreams as a child.
Now I dream of getting by.
And as I drink each hard day's beer
I long for mommy's hug, and sigh.