Once Dreamers
How is it that we’re so
peculiar that we
spend our young lives with our
heads above the clouds, but
force our feet to the ground when we’re
older? I suppose there are some who
try to stay up there, but it
seems that all they achieve is
taking the clouds down
with them. They live in a
fog for a while, wondering why others
appear so clear. And the
clear ones
think they can direct the
muddled minds, but it gets
ridiculous when they try to tell the
cloud hungry children to stop dreaming.
What do you think
happens to those who didn’t
get enough clouds when they were
young? Why, by the time they
should be clearing up, they
want more and drag
the clouds down with them. Such a
circular outcome. As for me,
I’m foggy. The clear ones don’t have
any fun. I’ll spend all my life
surrounded by the freezing cold of
set goals, but fascinate myself by
breathing out
just to see some
clouds again.
