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Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #2186061
My dreams about the future fade. A Senior Center Poetry Entry about getting "more mature."
Donā€™t Wait ā€“ Update!

My dreams about the future fade
the farther yesterday recedes.
I think about the plans I made;
how they were changed by otherā€™s needs.

I thought my dreams were like a map.
Iā€™d follow them ā€˜til I arrived.
Today my dreams come with a nap.
Iā€™m thankful just to have survived.

Then why do I feel disappointed?
My thoughts go back to long ago
when the world seemed less disjointed;
a time when ā€œprogressā€ seemed more slow.

A time when work was done with pride.
ā€œMade Overseasā€ was seldom seen
before the turning of the tide -
success is measured just in green.

A time when elders offered wisdom
long before the internet.
They were the mentors we learned from.
Now, theyā€™re just folks we oft' forget.

A time when dreams were commonplace:
a job, a home, not wrapped in greed.
Somehow those dreams have been replaced.
Commercials tell us what we need.

Iā€™ve traveled a long road to here
and ā€œhereā€™sā€ not where I thought, it seems.
Time is change ā€“ that much is clear,
I guess Iā€™ll just update my dreams!



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An entry for the March round of "SENIOR CENTER FORUMOpen in new Window.
Prompt: Dreams.
Form: Quatrains  Open in new Window.
Line Limit: None
Line Count: 28

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