Some Dream Of A Perfect World Poem by Reginald Reid

THE STUFF OF DREAMS

I visioned how things might sometimes be
for all set free of burdened need
in a world that's void of hate and greed
where all are equal in thought and deed.

I saw the flowers and the trees,
the rivers flowing generously,
all creatures on land and sea and in the air
lived their peaceful lives without a care.

This is the stuff for most it seems.
This is the fabric of our desperate dreams.
But for many I am told
they dream that they are not so old,
while some that are the truly young
desire an older age, so says their wagging tongues.

Reality surely takes a grip
for a mother, child on hip,
who seeks a meal and water scarce for her poor nation
as they negotiate their decimation.

And what of those who seek out love
can they find it here or in heaven above?
I see the lonely ignored, rejected,
unjustly guilty of some crime suspected
reaching, groping in the darkness
for satisfaction of a cause that's hopeless.

Others aspire to greatness
while working as a waitress.
Such is the stuff of dreams
so much desired yet unfulfilled it seems.