Some dreams are too good for a world that deports them to
the far future of bright nights.
Like holding on to a female ghost pulled into the realm of
lost memories, extraordinary fades.
Still I dreamt Heaven free from religion by the better angels of
intelligence.
I dreamt sword into words for the war of ideas and the
battle was fierce.
I dreamt victory to the tune of Pride In The Name Of Love by
U2.
I dreamt tears for children of all ages left behind in
education.
I get angry when I can’t hold on to dreams when eyes
open.
And still I try because I don’t know how to give them up.
It’s the thought that counts is not good enough for me
Good night
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