At first they were vivid,
Technicolor dreams.
So real you could touch them
and taste them it seemed.
With time all the images
would fade to pastel.
He saw his dreams
for what they were,
as realists often will.
When they turned to black and white
in the cold hard glare of day
He'd prayed then for a dreamless sleep
who needs them anyway.
Then came the darkest night
when all was bare and drear.
He longed then for the dreams of youth,
but none, of course, appeared
Jun 11, 2012
Jun 11, 2012 at 1:00 PM UTC
At first they were vivid,
Technicolor dreams.
So real you could touch them
and taste them it seemed.
With time all the images
would fade to pastel.
He saw his dreams
for what they were,
as realists often will.
When they turned to black and white
in the cold hard glare of day
He'd prayed then for a dreamless sleep
who needs them anyway.
Then came the darkest night
when all was bare and drear.
He longed then for the dreams of youth,
but none, of course, appeared
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