"Dreams" ( poetry )

Dreams

12.27.03

You dream of white picket fences, and music,
And children laughing,
And sunny days, in your secret world,
I dream of a cabin in the woods, a guitar quietly playing,
And the the sound of the gentle falling rain on the leaves,
In mine...

We are both children, trapped in the bodies of adults,
Hiding from beauty and love,
And hiding from ourselves, hiding from each other.
Almost touching... and yet a thousand miles away.

Both thinking that we are less, and everyone else is more.

Years pass, and the distance slowly grows,
Yet the dreams stay the same, and we slide into them,
Like a comfortable bed, on a Sunday morning.
So soft, safe and warm.

The world goes on around us, and changes,
We do too, without even realizing it.
Until one day, we stare in the mirror and see a stranger.
And stare at one another, and see the same.

Hurt and scared children, too afraid to say what we feel,
Until the day comes where no words,
Can even speak the depths of our pain,
And even we cannot understand what went wrong.
Until the only thing we have is our dreams.