Dreamer

Dreams disappear into the bleak washed walls

of society’s predetermined existence,

fading into oblivion after once-familiar hands

chose to let them go.

Fast-paced demands and orders

spins the hands ‘round imaginary clocks,

dizzying dreams and clouding hopes,

once acknowledged by innocent eyes.

But I refuse to forget,

to deny their existence,

these dreams, these aspirations.

I am not one to let go.

I will not choose to mold my dreams

into the bland and peeling walls.

I dream consciously.

I sleep ambiguously.

The thin membrane between

waking state and hazy

slumber is broken by the slightest

touch. Amidst the whirlwind of expectations

I remain a dreamer. It is stamped upon my being,

clutched by my fingertips

and ingrained into my vision each time

I stare into the vague horizon.

My ability to dream is what brands me.

Makes me a fool among robots,

an optimist among realists.

Happy fool, dizzy optimist.

Better than forgotten. I can hold my chin to the sky

and keep my feet on the ground

because I can dream. I can aspire to simply be.

I refuse to conform. I refuse to disappear.

I choose to dream.