The Lost Realist

A small child is jumping outside,
On his small dune of sand,
His tiny shoes fly in the air,
Amidst a shower of grains…

Grains of freedom, grains of joy,
Each grain filled with a million laughs,
A million giggles, a million squeals,
A million dreams of what could be.

And then someone tells him
To grow up and stay,
Learn to sit still in one place,
Learn to learn, Learn to obey…

Learn to follow what others say,
Learn to dream dreams,
That are not his own,
But the dreams of those who say.

Their own dreams were quashed,
By this harsh world, they tell,
They want you to be safe and sound,
Never dare too much, they yell.

The child is tamed, he sits and reflects,
“Yes, its all so reasonable, mature,
Let me sit, concentrate and focus”
And slowly he turns into a young man…

He has achieved what they wanted,
He has achieved what he thinks he wanted,
But one day he walks outside,
And sees a girl dance in the rain…

She’s so free, so simple, without a care,
She has a heart where malice won’t dare,
Without hesitation she turns to him,
And leaves herself to his every whim.

Suddenly, he feels alive as a child,
He throws his briefcase in the air,
Takes off his coat, takes off his tie,
And lifts her up in his arms so high…

A man is jumping outside,
In a pool of water with his love,
His big shoes fly in the air,
Amidst a shower of drops…

Drops of freedom, drops of joy,
Each drop filled with a million laughs,
A million giggles, a million squeals,
A million dreams of what will be.