Each day I stare into a dream I hold within my hand,
Then watch in disappoint as it just crumbles into sand.
The feeling as it happens simply cannot be expressed,
Though physically it's like a cannon blasting in my chest.
Sometimes I dream so small, as just to stop my shaking hand,
Or dream as though love is a feeling I can understand.
I'd give my tired soul to tour the place my dreams are made,
And find a quiet place to sit and see them all displayed.
One of my favorite dreams to watch is one where I believe,
That words like "I promise" are used for more than to decieve.
I also love the dream I have, that one day I am stopped,
and someone helps me pick up all the dreams that I have dropped.
And as we both try frantically to keep all of them near,
Our dreams are mixed together, and we both go pale with fear.
Then we see a light within our newly grafted dreams,
As they pair up perfectly, with no mismatches or seams.
It's very clear to both of us, the dream we'll choose to take,
But every time we lean to kiss, I'm instantly awake.
It takes everything in me, not to rise from my bed screaming,
'Cause daily I awaken knowing I was only dreaming.