Heed these words, for they are not simply mines.

These are the rantings of dreams killed by pen and paper.

By the words of advisers,

By the clicking of coins, seldom our own.

This is the banter of those misunderstood.

Of those who saw birds and dreamed of wings.

Of those who saw the sick and dreamed of magic.

Of those who saw injustice and dreamed of change.

Our time was exhausted by pen and paper.

Our dreams discouraged by the words of advisers

Our paths barred for lack of coin.

Yet we still march on

We as dreamers, HAVE to march on.

We persevere with strength we do not have.

We go deaf when they question our dreams.

And we give promises in place of coin.

I am but one of many who hold true to dreams.

And to those who given on dreams.

Know this, that your dreams have not forsaken you. 

And that i believe in you, with all my heart.