Dreams,
We always chase,
But somehow they seem to erase.
We think about them daily
how ever we want them to come true
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
Are dreams are there somewhere
we just have to look real close
Are dreams are around
In are town
We just have to wait it out
Dreams
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem