We each hold ideas,
in the palms of our hand's,
Special ideas & thoughts,
Many future plans.
Some we hold on to,
As we carry them for years,
Often by blocking our ambitions,
With excuses full of fear.
The future is always endless,
When we travel within our mind,
We see no limitations,
There is no such thing as time,
When our imagination wonders,
No reality, boundaries, or lines,
Nothing never slows us,
It's full throttle all the time.
Those dreams are the fuel
That keeps us striving everyday,
They create who we are,
During this life's stay.
Tom Maxwell copyright 1/15/06 A.D.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem