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Saturday, August 2, 2014


heavy is my heart filled with tears
for the world is being run by
angry deposed souls that believe...
to destroy all that they cannot possess
will leave them with what they wish

they know not that the possessions
they will attain will tether them to
a world without riches   

we who live in a dreamer’s world
one of hope and empathy, one that
embraces rather than pushes away,
an open hand in lieu of a taught fist

whose eyes are open to see the vision
of night stars, tries to reach up and touch them
who lies down on a field of wild flowers
and roles around in them with delight

if another hurts he tries to support, lends
a hand where he can and shares his bread
even when he has little and both will take
pleasure in the little which then becomes
insatiably fulfilling

just maybe, those with the folded fist
the angry heart will release their grip
and observe that sharing yields joy
and they may choose to join

but I live in a dreamer’s world
and so I wish not to awaken