You know it was a dream
Because you woke up
To your tightly gripping reality
It was deceptive
All that freedom you saw to fly
To discover, to belong, and to own.
All that freedom you saw to go forth
Into the world and thither home.
The beautiful lands you saw
Were a dream.
Because in the vice of your reality
There is no freedom.
In the gripping abjection of a poverty
That despises your dreams,
Derides your desires
And urges you to cede,
And to hope for a heaven
Like many have for centuries,
There is no freedom.
You know of having the wings
Of possessing the will,
And of calling forth the faith,
But of failing to fly
You watch your faith fade,
And your will weaken.
You see your feathers loose youth,
You fear the end. You’re afraid
That you’ll never see the beautiful lands,
That tired of the deception
Even the dreams will stop.