The Dreamer

I thought I was poor, to never realize my dreams,
that voice inside me, has deprived them of screams.

I don’t care, that figment of my imagination lives everywhere.
Yet, in this world, my life is but a broken-winged bird.
Under the blanket of the night, where there’s nothing to fright
my dreams shine bright, like the new-moon light.
I fight for my passion, determined by an ugly-might.
I’m afraid no more, for really poor is the one,
who has never dreamed at all.

(Artwork by Ashley Walters)


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