Dream my dream.

Is it worth it?

A question that bounces back and forth

in the mind of the coward that learned to be brave

What’s at stake?

Probably nothing, besides childish nightmares

and inability to get used to pain

of a shattered heart.

So, is it worth it?

definitely not if it is a quick tangle between the sheets

with a nameless face and alien body

supported by a flimsy motivation

for health or mindless pleasure –

for that I’ve got my hands.

Nor time runs out nor lonely cats’ house

sick, so very sick of hypocrisy…

So, is it worth it?

Only if it blooms in the field of poppies

beneath an oak tree

if happiness has ginger gleam

and ingenious green eyes

which infect with giddy gaiety

reflecting the love in emerald –

than yes, it is.

 

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7 thoughts on “Dream my dream.

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