I have a dream
Of a home on a hill
With a meadow
and a stream
Flowers dotting countryside
A breeze blowing gently
Through the trees
As long as my eyes are closed
I can still believe
But hope is a four letter word
And sometimes truth is
Nothing but deceit
I have a nightmare
Of a house on a hill
With a blazing fire
And nothing but smoke in the air
I’m running through tall grass
Suddenly turned to sharp, sharp glass
Bullets made of rage and lies
Mortar shells and mines exploding
Rocking the ground beneath my feet
I reach the trees and finally rest
Barely breathing, barely being
But finally seeing, eyes wide open
I have a dream of a home
That now I know, I’ve never seen.