Treasure Island

Jayatissa Liyanage

(21st June / Walasmulla, Sri Lanka)

Seven day-deams

When I was a child, I had a dream
A dream to be like some one
I do not remember, who or why it was

When I was a boy, I had a dream
A dream to be a grown up
Amongst grown ups, as I envisioned

When I was a youth, I had a dream
A dream to make my mother proudly
Cos', she was dreaming to be proud of me

When I was a man, I had a dream
A dream to reach a plateau, one day
Amongst my colleagues already up there

Day I became a father, I had a dream
A dream to be a proud father
That being my bounden and divine duty
I had no choice, but, strove day and night

Lokzi, Podzi and Chutzi, most precious trio
Thank you, for making me proud, at last
Can never be better, I am sure
For, I shall not dream any more, for you

Being proud, nonetheless, I have a dream
A dream to say-so the world aloud
Best way to be proud, if you like
Is to dream, dream and dream

As a matured, I have a final dream
A dream to stop dreaming any more
Day I tame my craving desires
I'll be there, then, adieu to all of you all!

Jayatissa K.Liyanage

Submitted: Sunday, March 18, 2012
Edited: Thursday, April 05, 2012

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Seven day-deams by Jayatissa Liyanage )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. A Dream Within A Dream
    Edgar Allan Poe Updates

Poem of the Day

poet Robert Burns

When biting Boreas, fell and doure,
Sharp shivers thro' the leafless bow'r;
When Phoebus gies a short-liv'd glow'r,
Far south the lift,
...... Read complete »


Modern Poem

poet Jessie Pope

[Hata Bildir]