Broken Dreams Poem by Dwayne Rankin

When he was just a little lad,
The best of times, those times he had.
Outside his parents country home;
Those country fields there would he roam.

But when there comes those rainy days,
It's in the barn, found filled with hay.
He'd climb on up and play within,
And oh those games he'd play... and win.

Then later as a teenage boy,
The widened world would he enjoy.
On through the pastures he would fly,
His eyes upon that sun drenched sky.

That old red barn, he'd speed on past;
Then through the woods seen running fast.
On meadow trails found swift of feet.
Each wondrous day, he'd run to greet.

He'd climb each mountain tall and steep;
And then find valleys hidden deep.
With creeks found pure, swift and cold;
Whose beds all glistened bright with gold.

Across the valley floor he'd dash,
'Midst water falls that'd gaily splash.
There he'd find those squirrels at play,
And find where deer at night would lay.

He'd wonder where one day he'd stand,
When he as grown into a man.
All the sights that he would find;
Those wonders all that God designed.

T'was then he'd notice the fading light,
And realized 'twas almost night.
Then in the growing twilight, gray,
Back to his room, his thoughts would stray.

And there he'd see that evening fair,
While sitting in his wheelchair.
Then bathed within the moon's soft beams,
He' live again his broken dreams.