Can we live to dream the impossible dream?

Where temperance and virtue have meaning,.

Where character stands for something stronger than the blank faces we tend to hide behind

Where words are powerful and are not some desolate idea of constant torture toward others

Where lives are not destroyed by bullets but prosper with kindness and love

Where we help the healing wounds of others instead of cutting the scar deeper

Where the colors of our skin are not seen but the whole person is viewed from the inside

Where we don't burn our cities to the ground when our leaders can't even shake hands and their evil grins continue to bounce off the wall

Where we breathe the same air without ******* in the toxic fumes that continue to choke us to death

Where we see through the same lens without them foggy up because of the destruction of the world

Can we live to dream the impossible dream or is the impossible dream impossible to dream when we continue to live?

I was getting excited.
Waiting nervously, in my little boys mind.
I stood there patiently, a wee bit nervous but patiently.
My knees were starting to shake
My heart beat faster with each step I took
I was getting closer to my ultimate dream

This eight year old boy's dream to ride by myself, on the bumper cars at the county fair.

Every young boy remembers that moment
The moment when we can put the pedal to the metal and see the sparks fly from ceiling of the metal structure, as we slam recklessly into the next car and our heads bounce off the padded steering wheel...oh yes that feeling

The intensity inside me grew by every sinking flash of time.
The Kodak moment I was waiting for
You know that time..that hip hip yoorah moment of finally being independent

I was on the rise to manhood...or so I thought

The line moved as about as slow as molasses in the winter
Ten people in front of me now

Eight.....now six

Four ...now two

I was next...yes, yes, yes ..I finally reached the threshold of my manlihood

The grisly looking ride operator stared at me with bewilderment and confusion

Now is the time that he unlocks that chain...that barrier that holds back my freedom
The rusted links swaying back and forth.

Then err of calm set over me...the time is now
I am about to become a man..
"Stand tall" ..I said to myself

I stood tall on my tip toes, straining ever so slightly, to reach the top of that painted red line just above the cartoon elephant's finger.

That moment, frozen in time!!

The world went blank as the only thing I heard was that grisly, mean looking ride operator say:

"Sorry kid, you are not tall enough to ride this ride, maybe next year."

My cotton candy fell to the ground

When words are silenced, I can not hear them.

They are my voice, my mind and my body
They are the smallest mocule of intimacy that hold me together, I wrap these words around my little finger until it goes numb.
They grip my skin so tight it hurts and I pass out.
They sting like a black widow's bite and they kiss the moon with beautiful sound.

Those Words..like a powerful symbolic weapon made up of strong syllables and even stronger convictions, they are life's little secret.

A secret that needs to be shared, borrowed, used and abused.
But I dare not to be silenced anymore.

I want my words to be heard. Heard across the planets, the stars and deep space, where no vacuum can withstand the intensity of what I am saying.

My words will come faster than the speed of light but will flow more delicate than a red rose's silk petal. They will not hurt you. They will heal for what is meant to be healed, they will be kind and gentle.

Yes, my words will be spoken to any formidable ear that will listen. They will not make you bleed, they will only mold the sutures of time back together.

So try and silence my words, you see my words are driven from powerful thoughts of reflection, for you are the one that will be silenced by the seconds of a deaf ear.

Your temper breaks the silence of the air
Ear shattering sounds emit violently toward me
One step, two steps closer ..not another step, please
I become deaf to the time

Rolled up fists, cocked and ready
Eyes bulging red with disdain
I hear the hissing sound of the steam kettle
I become crossed by the pressure inside

Lives are threatened by the pain you toss
Nothing to resort to but angry seams
I am being pushed to the brink by you
I become numb to the edge

I have counted the half seconds to fear itself
They mean nothing to me anymore
I am scared to face the reality of it all
I became the target of your aggression

I fear by the hand of my son with an unstable mind of careless pity and sorry ill repoir