Aged Dreams
When we were young
we chased our dreams
down forward-looking roads
but as the frost of life
breached our memories
what once were daydream’s daggers
now appear like Icicles.
When Innocence was pierced
every wistful second
brought new utopian dreams
to shine like golden daffodils
on fields of anticipated glory.
Our transgressions here on Earth
every jaded moment
and each Impulsive breath
have been washed away
in time’s liquid hope.
Now we stare at ghostly images
captured and hung
among rooms we\'re living in
to scare the loneliness of our winters
away from mind and into oblivion.
Our dreams no longer
tread those olden pathways.
They grope through clouded remembrances
none of which seem accurate.
Their sharpness has waned
and the frosty remnants
chill our souls.