In a dream, as I often dream,

Of life many years from now,

I dreamed of a man,

More than he seemed,

Though I dreamed not why nor how.

He, too, was a dreamer, with insight keener,

More than I could ever allow,

And he dreamed,

Of many beautiful things,

Like shades of blue, and faces on clouds.

I dreamed of the times, all the times,

That I know are yet to come.

And long after time,

What I did find,

Is why t'isn't long enough for some.

Yet I would not give, a dream to live,

If it meant living lonely days.

For what good is it to live,

When what your dreams did give,

Were the reasons some dreams don't fade.