Dreams

Dreams

As little children, our futures seem so bright
We laugh and play, in an endless summer dream
How far away those days now seem
And we now live in a world where wrong is right

Where are all those glowing dreams of ours?
Have they gone to another time and place?
Is life nothing but an endless race?
And we reduced to merely passing the hours?

What is the measure of a man (and woman)?
Do dreams have to end with the coming of age?
Can’t we hold on to dreams and not to rage?
Must we stop dreaming, whatever we may yearn?

Dreams are for losers, the scoffers will say
But I’ll rather be a dreaming loser
Than be a losing user
Of all this world has, come what may

But then, we poets are always dreamers
Having our heads in the clouds above
And writing about our hopes and love
While all around is doom and gloom
But then again, maybe we should all find room
In our hearts
Sometime