Poetry By Me

A Dream for a Brighter Day

The pages turn

And all the young children learn.

We all feel this yearn

For the life we were sworn,

That never ounce

Showed the light.

We all mourn

That death of our minds,

Burnt from the fire

Built out of spite.

This might

Be the night

When all of us fight.

For whom or for what

I'm not quite sure,
But at this point

We have not much more.

We rise at dawn,

Just as the sun

And work all week

For this meak little pay,

We sleep the nights

And pray away the days.

Because maybe,

Just maybe,

We won't have to stay.

We could swim and run

To a better outcome,

And will laugh and play

And we must never fray,

Our tortured little minds.

Instead we strum

The sounds of fun.

We will hop

Instead of mop

And climb

Instead of waste

All of this precious time.

We must finish the chapter,

But never the book.

We will write

And write

Until we feel the Earth

The one that once shook.

And we will not have to work

Hard and long.

Instead we would play

And laugh all the days away.

L.O.M