A Short Poem : Dreamer
For how long have I dreamed a dream I have heard of men, who spent their life dreaming a dream for how long will I live in the future afraid of breathing the stale air in the present the air smells and I, cannot accept that which labels me as a peasant afraid of claiming this life as my portion my real life exists somewhere near, in the future it smells like apricot and freshly cut grass in a field of white roses, where pink pelicans fly so I put my face and my back into my work As I toil to do the very things I hate, as a necessary way of achieving that which I love The days pass and I fail to grasp the essence of life. My youth withers away as I toil on this barren land. But I do not notice, because I have my sights set on Utopia. with every step taken, utopia turns dystopia I have had priests filling my ears with the speech that they preach proclaiming the dream that I dreamed is out of reach, because of the sins that I've sinned I suffer fr...