June 7, 2012

Dreams are like a heart of gold, That melt away when lies are told. Like glass- crystal and clear, Yet shatter when the truth is near. Dreams are sacred- rare for some, They run away when shadows come. Intermingled, tied, and weaved, And most can never be achieved. But the real treasure of a dream, Is hidden strictly in its theme. For we will be forever changed, From something darker and deranged, To someone who can see the truth, And sense the beauty of our youth. Dreams unlock our will to love, And soar as eagles from above. It alters our eyes to truly see, The beauty that surrounds the free. From common people- simple, stale, To lift deception's darker veil, To perceive the ways that we are blest, And change our troubles into rest. Dream, dream and sleep away, All the troubles of the day. Change your Raven to the Dove, As dreams unlock our will to love.

The author's comments:
I wrote this poem as an idea that dreams are not merely what we achieve and hold on to, but rather dreams are anything that we aspire or wish for.

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