The Dream I Sing

The Dream I Sing

I sing my dream

to absolute extremes,

with the pen

I illustrate and let you in.

To a soul

that lives on

but weary,

the heart is painfully teary.

Bound by the color you see,

to grasp proper history

only helps me

to be free.

Although color I try not to see,

life is indeed of the educational variety.

Through its rarities

I find my reflection in society

invisible

withering away without a principle.

Dying in vain,

while trying to maintain,

but yet I sing my dreams

with my theme

of struggle

and everything it brings.

I know there will be anguish

of my heart’s written language

to suffer and suffice.

Oh, this world is far from paradise

so I know

I have a long way to go.