Imagining what will never come to pass.
Anticipating a head on crash.
Termination of this point in time.
Languishing in the dark of pitch black night.
Counting things so far out of sight.
Why retread what has no hope to be?
Upon wings of wonder and winds of make believe.
Aiming for shores that are too distant to reach.
I keep these thoughts but wish to share them proud.
They will never be achieved but that doesn’t make me frown.
Prescient of what can and will not be.
Yet in need of being distracted from reality.
Dream is a fiction we all wish was more.
Should disown but refuse to.
Fear that with dreams gone we might fracture.
So leave me to dwell even though I know the truth.
Collision doesn’t guarantee derailment.
We all need our outlets.
No harm, no foul.
Sip from this font for enjoyment.
Even if its only for a little while.
Simon A Jackson - Writer 