Dreamers Poem by matthew broxton

Dreamers



The waiter who wanted
to become an astronaut.

The road-sweeper,
who wanted to be a doctor.

Dream, let us dream,
see the lights where darkness looms.

To have penthouse dreams,
in box-rooms.

Dreams are apparitions,
a mirage to the wanderer.
No foundation,
all aspiration.

According to the cynics of course..

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