Poetry

Why Bother Dreaming

By Marcus Pan

Smell of gunpowder, rising sun;
Darkness chased, morning comes;
I still can smell in surrounding air;
Fire in the sky, colorful flairs;
No time to sleep, no time to dream;
Doesn't matter, or so it seems;
Nothing left to dream about;
Took a chance, swung at doubt;
Dreams I've had are dreams I've gained;
For once I wished, and I attained;
Hair of gold and smile so sweet;
Forcing me to reach my peak;
And she's given me a gift so strong;
A gift that stays a lifetime long;
With firey hair and eyes so bright;
I sneak in always and peek at night;
Peaceful slumber, make not a sound;
Hard to see when dark around;
But now the sun has risen high;
And little angel will wake and cry;
Golden hair will stir and rise;
Rubbing softly her open eyes;
And both will step into the light;
Of morning sun, rays so bright;
Where I can see them work and play;
From hour to hour throughout the day;
Why bother then to dream throughout;
When I already have what I’d dream about?