We trade in our dreams
Cash them in
To achieve a dream is to realize that the world is smoke in a concrete box
Is to see it disappear before you
Is to make flower gardens and shutters into faceless monsters
A dream is a coin in your pocket
The luxury of the poverty stricken and the misfit
We never get what we think we will
What we want is a corner of the world
A place with smiling beautiful children
And homemade pies and shiny appliances
What we get instead is knowledge
We get the knowledge that another piece of the world is imperfect
Would you trade the coin in your pocket for knowledge–
To become a poet, an intellectual, someone deeply sad inside?
You don’t have the choice
We have to pay up
Feed our dream coin to the abyss inside of us
And pretend it will be different this time