We once lived in childhood dreams,
Yet, now live each day in acts.
Age batters down our dreams it seems,
And, buries them 'neath facts.
The world is not as a child,
Would wish that it might be.
Living always free and wild,
As we sail an unknown sea.
Both time clock and the boss,
Are burdens on our souls.
Most never even note the loss,
Tattered drams now full of holes.
So, each day they spend in sorrow,
For the dreams they once believed,
Passing time until tomorrow,
As by day, dreams past are grieved.
Perhaps upon some quiet night,
They'll remember childhood dreams,
Once more their soul in daring flight,
Soaring on the moon's bright beams.
Donovan Baldwin
