Dreams Of Younger Days

Dreams Of Younger Days prose poem

Uploaded by Grant Dickson


A dream what is that exactly, a reason to live, love, laugh, follow your heart.
His heart, her heart, your heart, my heart, their hearts even our own hearts, from that first newborn smack on our baby bottoms, to wail of lungs from our tops.
Passion, compassion, sympathetic, empathetic or just pathetic the dreams of a broken soul still fighting to keep its youth.
A youth tested by ageing years, each one out to prove we still have that same spring, that same sparkle of effervescence, achievable moments filled with emotion and tears.
Why do we dream, what right have we to even dare, but it is our goals, our passion, our will to just keep pushing ourselves more and more until our bodies and minds implode, telling us that yes we only have one life and to live it best we can.
Well sometimes it’s okay to stop, quit, give in, you, me, them, us there is a time to stop dreaming and just live; yes JUST LIVE.

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