hope

At the tree of fantasy, a place in my mind, whose roots collect and entwine in the deepest parts of my soul and mind, that thrives on dreams and wishes made, on petals and stars, eyelashes and candles, whose flowers bloom from exposure to freedom and smell like persistence, who dwell and thrive in waters of imagination, who bow to the wind of maturity but never break from buffeting gusts that seek to destroy, that tear away freedom and joy and magic for those only known as genetically created and encouraged, manufactured thoughts of reality.

They stay strong and push on though hidden from sight in the corners of one`s deepest self and dwell on childhood memories and fantasy games.  They spark secrets and create unrealistic and impossible goals but nothing is impossible. 

Anything can and will happen as long as we dream. 

They say to grow up and make decisions, to abandon our hopes and trade them for reality but they cannot crush or discourage us. 

We wish and hope and dream, desperately clinging to the one last hope, a thread of change that will save our life, a single string that we can weave, a story of encouragement for the world, a story of hope that could change the future, that the dreamers` dreams can build a society that thrives on possibility, that works together to build a better future, that can sustain us throughout everything.  Where no one is told they aren’t good enough, or smart enough, or pretty enough.  Where each person can be themselves, free to openly participate in everything life has to offer.  Where children can stay children and where wishes can come true.  Where reality is make-believe and where we are free of society`s bonds and shackles that they put on our minds to stop us, to hold us back, to constrain and restrain us, to hide us, to limit us, to scare us into being one and the same, a single mask of normalcy. 

Well, I defy the laws of reality and the laws of normalcy.  I will imagine and dream and wish and hope and love.  I will do all these things unendingly and limitlessly every moment of every day for the rest of my life.  I will make a change and I will write this story.  I will not cower under the boughs of the tree of fantasy, crouched trembling in the shade, afraid of the shallow and meaningless opinions of the world, the empty words which the critics scramble at in an attempt to tear me down. 

No, rather, I will step out into the sun, spreading the magic we all hold in our hearts, until it encompasses the whole world.

This poem is about: 
Me

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