Wanting big names in the sky
Of wanting a life to dream better
They wake every morning, hoping for change
They can't win themselves, their children become part of the shooting range
Hours in that hell hole, no hope for light at the end of it
They go in when the moon still makes its presence felt in the sky
And come out long after the sun sets, leaving behind the world of lie
Lives led lying in beds, over and under strange men
Lives led mending bruises, scars left by the time when there were ten
Little dreams in our pockets
Little dreams to stop living
Little dreams to run
Little dreams of wanting to stop giving
Little dreams in our pockets
Dreams like yours
Dreams you clasp in your lockets
Little dreams in our pockets
Amla Pisharody
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/little-dreams-in-our-pocket/
