Dream

I didn’t know how to cry until I learned to dream
And I wished it never had a hold on me
Or that I had tasted the hope of that sweet symphony,
Whatever it is that I’ve always longed to be
Because I just can’t shake it. I can’t be free.
It keeps me from waking up to a newer reality.
I can’t stop asking , “God, what about my dream?”
Are my eyes too big for what I’m never going to see?
There’s just no grip for its practicality.
And the longer I go the more I want to know,
if I’m just deceived; thinking there’s really something out there good for me.
Like, how long do you keep hoping before you recede?
But giving it up feels like resisting gravity.
So I’m stuck between wanting to let it die and it killing me.
Day by day and years go by… and here I am still just trying to fly.
When are you going to believe you just don’t have wings?
Is settling what I need or is this an integral part of me?
My soul is contemplating if it’s really worth waiting…
if it is really worth it to dream.

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