Dreams

My waking life is ever melded with that of a summer dream,

The strange images that float around me are not as they seem.

The future is a muffled query I hear from some distant caller.

“What are you doing after high school?” It taunts.

The world turns dark and room is getting smaller.

I take a blind step toward the voice that haunts.

“I don’t know.” Absently escapes my lips.

The ground opens up beneath me and it’s too late,

But then I notice a star that had previously been eclipsed.

I watch it grow into a hazy image of my fate.

The picture becomes vivacious and bright.

I start to laugh as the sky becomes colorful once more.

“After high school, I’d like to do something in which I delight.”

I dream of a life that’s never a monotonous bore.

I’d simply like to be happy, and smile more.