Cory Ruda (7/31/91)
A father playing with his son, making
a mother smile while she sifts through clothes.
The child needs a haircut, but couldn't
spare a thought more. He'll have one Friday.
This is the American Dream.
This is the Human Dream, to radiate love for
one another in the care and sanctity of
a warm sun, a roof over ones head,
food, drink, joy.
This is the Human Dream, and,
all mankind will join hands and hearts.
Then, and only then, will it become
the Human Condition.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Human Dream by Cory Ruda )
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