A poem about childhood dreams |
You can interpret this poem as you like but I still felt it needed a bit more of an introduction than the 90 characters allowed on the link. I wrote it about how children have such wild and imaginative dreams for when they are older and how great it would be if we could keep these dreams for when we are old enough to fulfill them. Instead we are held back by the desire for security and a routine. So here it is: Often thinking of the days When dreams and fortune reigned, A thousand splendours met my gaze And yet not one retained. When children dared to dream away Through lands of knights and maids, They never once were led astray By pulling back the shades. I’m lying here so colour blind But still those colours bright. Perform a ballet in my mind, Yet all I see is white. Oh mindless bliss return again! Allow my dreams to bolt. Let childhood’s joy release the pain Of my aging mind’s revolt. Realism and distrust Built in the human mould. But what if I could shake the rust And underneath find gold? The ones that think outside the box, Have life to block their gaze, Their house that’s built upon the rocks Is kept for later days. Victory’s only tasted In the straggled dregs of youth, Bohemian dreams are wasted On the idle shores of truth. |