If I Could Dream Awake
Where is my inner child?
Such dreams I have in me,
That it seems such a shame.
To know that ther is such a place
Where all is wild, none tame.
A feeling we forgot sometime
That love for all romance
Conquered mountains and monsters
So that we could sing and dance
When did my life get boring?
Where did the color go?
When did I decide to stop
Letting my sweet dreams grow?
Was it because of reach for wealth?
Or maybe for responsibility?
Did I choose the shackles I wear?
Give up my way to be free?
I think there is a child in us
That rallies against despair
That seeks to live out loud
And love without a care
One day I hope to meet
This inner dancing sprite
And choose to play along
Just dancing through the night
About the Creator
Christopher O'Sullivan
Poet, filmaker. Please feel free to check out my you tube channel https://youtube.com/@diofyproductions?si=eQKCpdk1asRf1G-g to see what sort of fun shorts i'm making.
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Reaching Out
I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
By Christy Munson5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
I've found a lot of joy in embracing my inner child. Maybe it comes with age.
It would be so wonderful to embrace our inner child! Loved your poem!