When was it that the moon stopped it's wonderful glow?
How was it that the stars ceased to shine?
Where was it that the sun cried out the night?
Why is it that the clouds must mask our truths?
The sky bleeds a wonderful blue.
Encouraging the dreams of two.
The meadows sing their enchanting song.
Lusting for the love missed so long.
Colors Swirl around and about.
The passion can't help but to scream and shout.
To come so close, but never to touch.
The curse of the dream, falls on many as such.
Stand tall, stand proud, stand strong.
They all say, but all fall to the Meadow's song.
Love me tender, Love me true.
They all say, but they bleed like Skies blue.
I am a slave to my own dreams.
Some envy my gift to paint with words, such beautiful scenes.
Yet I am no more than a slave. Slave to my dreams.
The grand illusion of love, makes me scream.
Timothy Lee Hollandsworth Jr.
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/broken-in-the-field-of-dreams/
