In the land of dreams where young hearts roam,
Children wander, imagining their own,
Army dreamers with eyes so bright,
Painting worlds with colors of light.
They build castles from cardboard and twine,
Conquer dragons in realms so fine,
Their laughter echoes, pure and loud,
In a world where magic's allowed.
But time moves on with a steady pace,
Their fantasies drifting, leaving no trace,
Army dreamers, slowly losing ground,
As reality's weight pulls them down.
School bells ring with lessons stern,
Imagination starts to yearn,
For the days of endless play,
Where make-believe held sway.
Yet in the quiet of their weary sighs,
A flicker remains, refusing to die,
A spark of hope, a lingering fire,
That dreams can soar, even higher.
For army dreamers may grow and change,
But in their hearts, a world remains,
Where dragons dance and heroes fly,
And imagination never says goodbye.
YOU ARE READING
This house was never a home
PoesíaThis place was never home, The things that lie in it was memorizing some a taunting memory other pleasant some not
