The Dreamer Poem by Emmatobs de thought writer

With his head tucked in the clouds,
His dreams were ever so loud,
In the dark pages of his life-book,
His dream, his only observing look.

Dreams show hope of survival,
He keeps on hoping, for a brilliant arrival,
Though his heart is full of sorrows,
He keeps that hope for a better tomorrow.

From his youth, his dream was to be a hero,
But in his old age, he feels nothing but a zero,
'Cos many times he thinks and ponders at night,
Walking in life's path, without a sight.

He keeps hope in a day, falling like rain,
And all his hard work on coupon, is always in vain.
His beliefs, one day, his coupon is going to kick,
Hoping for better days, to simply click.

His friend won ten straight draws and they were mates
But for his, he takes his life with fate.
He never quits, yet keeps inside, his hope and inspiration,
For couponing is his only satisfaction.

At night, when stars weep for him, without feeling restless,
And the moon cradles his pain with tenderness,
Although some souls do hate,
While some pray he changes before it's too late.

The Spring of life is moving so fast,
Coupon, his heroine of his novel of last.
Who will hear him with posture,
That runs with the norms with a ticket of nature.

When his mind gets tired of loneliness,
Attestation is his only adorable friend of happiness,
Giving him fragrance and perfume,
When his soul cries and wears upon, a sad costume.

He never gives up and he keeps moving,
With confidence in himself, he keeps on living.
He keeps pushing on and continues to fight,
Trying again and again, with all of his might.

He invades his world with a testament of tranquility,
For this is himself, having great character and personality.
He keeps on living in luxury imagination,
For now, coupons are his only occupation.