Poem: Of Her

I'm not a
Troubled youth
Or an inmate
With a conscience,
I'm not society
Or a reflection
Of its moods,
Simply I'm
A dreamer,
With ideas
Of the future
And a small
Impulsive streak
That determines
What I say.
I don't dream
Of curing cancer,
I don't dream
Of fighting wars,
All I dream
And focus on
Is waking up
Beside her.
And though
It seems
Quite small in
Thought,
Selfish
And without
Real cause,
These are
Dreams that
I believe
And thoughts I
Won't surrender.
So scorn me
For not
Wanting more,
For aiming
Low with
Simple goals,
But know
That I'm
A realist
And I'll
Keep these
Thoughts together.
Know that
I'm a realist
But with
Dreams
That last
Forever.