I stopped dreaming long ago.
Dreams are always cloaked in shades of gray.
Even the ones bright with promise,
Fade away in the glorious light of the morning Sun.
I’ve ceased to dream.
The bursting of balloon is a feeling
Too peculiar to my existence.
I live in reality.
A world awash in the cool light of what is.
The pain of disappointment is too much with me,
And dreams have proved more of a hindrance,
Than a succor.