when i was young
of course i dreamed
dreamed of adventures
dreamed of excitement
what i would do
where i would go
once i grew up

upon the high seas
soaring among clouds
painting desert sands
living by a foggy fishing port

but from the outset
these wondrous dreams
where handicapped
born with a fatal flaw that was me
never would they come true
never to be followed
never fully committed to
never to see the light of day
they would simply die
as my childhood waned

dreams are stories we tell ourselves
dreams are dust in the winds
lost dreams
emerge as cherished memories
like warm july nights

i knew myself