A Dream Poem by Emily Chloe

A DREAM

He walks
A slow, reluctant walk
The road before
Has called to him
And now,
The road behind
Calls louder. And now it weeps
It cries a sobbing plea
But he must go on.

He walks
A slow, reluctant walk
He sees the trees, the brush
Crowding the path.
He sees the sky, the clouds
Darkening the sky.
And the road behind
Calls urgently. And he shuts his eyes
Because he must go on.

He struggles
A distant, abortive struggle
But still he goes on;
He can see the road behind him
In his mind.
But if he looks back,
He will abandon the path before.
Because it still reaches with fingers of appeal
But he still fights on.

He struggles.
A distant, abortive struggle
Reaching, pushing, clinging to his dream
His vision, and now it seems only such.
His cold hands, numb fingers
Grasp for what is not there.
And now the call of the past
Is unbearable.
But still, he goes on.

He toils
An exerting, wretched toil
But he breathes
Easier, now, though he breathes through his tears
He sqints through the sweat
And the road is narrow, now.
The rain pours down
And the wind fiercely fights him.
But he still fights on.

He toils
An exerting, wretched toil.
He reaches a hill. He is not daunted
He struggles and reaches the top.
And gazes. He cannot take his eyes
Off his dream-laid out before him.
And he looks back
And sees the road
And the past still calls him
But his dream
Calls louder.