Pistol dreams.
Exaggerated hopes.
Intense ideas of love, furious desires for the stars to be in reach.

Teenage ideals. Everything is deep,
Or can be.
An elephant carries a heavy load but can hold it easier than anything else.
Deep? Shallow? Dumb?
Depends on who is asked.

The future is screaming,
Rolling forward like a train at unimaginable speeds,
Meanwhile I am writing,
Thinking of things,
That won't heal the sick,
Or feed the hungry.

However,
It seems lifechanging,
When the words flow right,
Or throw hope and love together in some new way.

But are they actually?