House Of Dreams Poem by James McLain

money was the house of dreams
glass so 'dear' it built.
it paid in fines and tears
can my daughter block the sun
with all the words
then full were you.
how do you grow and spend her time
with no sky to gaze upon
does she hear the wind, at night before
it comes
too dress the morning sky, in all it's light
and wood lies upon the forest floor
too much too find and lacking more
know her mind a ticking clock like mine
a way through time,
don't use the pills too shut hers off.
when yours grows dim
light is her source, her rivers long
both sides too know
please let it in.