Tracks of a Wandering Mind

Poetry, stories and random thoughts from a wandering mind.

Dead Dreams

I listened to an old man one day as he talked about what he used to do and what he had once wanted to do.  I wondered then when I would get old in my own mind.  Would I give my dreams up as I got old or would I get old because I lost them?

Do old men have dreams and plans and schemes,
Or are we old when we give them up?
Do we taste life to its full measure,
Or sip our drink from a bittered cup?

Do we still hope or can we not cope
With all that time has wrought upon us?
Are these precious things just out of reach
Or husks of dreams still carried behind us?

The path my feet have daily followed,
That leads one day to the end of things,
Still full of life and more tomorrows,
Has no more room for any dead dreams.

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June 10, 2011 - Posted by | Poetry | , ,

1 Comment »

  1. Time to live.

    Comment by Anonymous | June 10, 2011 | Reply


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