Building Rome

I’ve always had big dreams. The kind that are a huge stretch, it habitually seems. Maybe they are unattainable, But I’ve always thought dreaming big was kind of amiable. You know what, I think I can do it. I think if I try, I can make the shoe fit. Then I guess my head is stuck up in the treetop, Or I am some sap, hoping that I won’t drop. It’s a long way from the canopy, To where everybody else calls reality. But is this really even a fantasy? I guess you could call this cynical. But sh**, I’ve never walked on streets of gold. The only delusion that I’ll entertain, Is the illusion that I’ve got game. This poem was meant to paint me, In the way that I choose for you to see, Because what the author says, you’d believe. Maybe life isn’t as crazy as I’d make it out to be, But I’ll keep on trying even if I’m all alone. Whether I go big or go home I’ll keep going because it took more than a day to build Rome.