Old Blue knew he was smarter than anyone else.
Every day he'd go lie down in his favorite spot beneath
the trees and look out over the fields.
For hours he'd daydream about things he was going to do in life.
As the years passed quickly by, Old Blue remained in his mind's
eye, always thinking of what he would someday accomplish.
Last Tuesday, Old Blue died in his favorite spot beneath the
trees, never having done any of the things he'd daydreamed of
doing one day.
His mind surpassed his reality.
RoseAnn V. Shawiak
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/old-blue-2/
