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.