Poems Don't Have to Rhyme

A Dream

The sentiments of the one

who, crowded in his feelings, and thus made alone,

Sensing the blight upon him, and resigned to let it eat him away...

(The flower that once has bloomed forever dies)

I am like one who died young,

All my life was before me,

But I made my choice long ago

To do nothing at all with my time,

To earn no one's respect, no one's Love,

For what use is Love to a bottle?

It was a Dream, all a Dream,

Ending in nothing and changing nothing—

But think not on that, my love,

For it was another one who inspired it.

In the end, that which must be,

Will be.

Indeed, must it end in nothing?

For your sake, a life you love

shall be recalled to life.