Poetry

The dream,
The dream of all;
The dream for all;
That dream is no more.

Every man, women and child, 
Would live in, of, and by this dream.

We’ve killed for it! We’ve stolen for it! 
We’ve even voted for it, but where is it, this Unrequited dream?

The dream that says all are created equal. The dream that embraces all as they are, And as they would be. 

Where is it? Where is this dream? 
I see it not. 
I look around me today, 
As I looked around me yesterday 
And I see disillusioned masses. 

People living with unanswered prayers, Mistaken ideals, and a dream, unachieved, Undone, unrequited. 

Where are the great leaders, the great minds, and the great speakers? 
They who laid out our path; 
Those who started us on our way. 

What happened to our Washington, our Franklin, and our Paine? 

We know Paine today, but this pain is no Writer of ideas, this pain is the pain of an Unrequited dream. The kind of pain that Starts at the heart and flows to the brain. 

We know Franklin today, at least some do, The select few, the Elite few. While the rest Begin to know Washington all too well, as It is, we cry, and try, to keep, while others Pry our very last one. 

I had heard of an idea that was America, 
A land so beautiful and so bountiful that Everyone lived prosperously. 
But I see now it was all a dream. 

Today I see we all live with the pain of this Unrequited dream.

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There are Times to Plan

 

I wasn’t ready to tell you then

How I felt.

 

In life

There are times to plan.

Times to act.

 

I wasn’t sure if you felt the same

Way that I did.

 

Now looking back
At how you looked at me
At how you treated me

 

If I had spent less time planning

More time acting

 

 

You might not be

2,846.3 miles away.