As Woodrow Wilson once said: "We grow great by dreams. All big men are dreamers. They see things in the soft haze of a spring day or in the red fire of a long winter's evening."
Kudos! This is a poem that I, somehow, can relate too. This seemed like a piece that reminisces the past that someone had enjoyed, that someone misses.
I, too, never quite had the pleasure of remembering any dream I have ever had - probably, since I was a child. But nonetheless, the dreams that base on the past or on the future, for that matter, are dreams that we can make for ourselves.
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