Who knew through magical colors collide
stories of life and love sprout
sunshine and darkness, suspense and happiness
who knew that dreams
within dreams have a life of their own
when mind wanders, the odds are good
the fairytale grows to encompass hearts
but storms rise and black clouds form
as half of two learns he is only one
through wakefulness "true" love grows
and in dreams our love unfolds
but when reality falls on a flourishing mind
within dreams it is the heart that dies
who says dreams are but dreams
is there no belief that dreams are alive
as such, when dreams fall short
in waking, mind reveals to heart
fairytales are but childhood fantasies
reality encompasses much more cruelty
pessimism seeps into slumber
the cruelty of life, women, and love
change these lines of poetry into prose
dangers of dreams unalterably begun to sow
so why keep singing those sweet lullabies
why hold dearly to those don quixote delusions
and by all that is good and holy
why keep dreaming those childhood fairytales
I too wish that prose may once more turn
into beautiful flowing poetry and gay rich song
sadly my dear, there is no happily ever after
there is only good riddance and good bye
so wake up, and let dreams be just those
dreams in a thoughtbucket floating for eternity
in purgatory never dead nor never truly living
