Monday, March 18, 2013

Poem of CHOICE

The dreams we dream are foggy,
Wispy swirls of longing
That float around our heads.
"Dream big," we're told.
But when a cloud is too big
It can be intoxicating.
The blurriness pollutes
When dreams become distant daydreams.
Distractions invade,
Your head is lost in the clouds.
The danger of glorifying the far future
Lies in losing sight of the present tense,
As the dreamy swirls veil your vision,
Allowing the drive of now fade

 away.

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