We talked in tomorrows and futures,
And ‘one days’ that were so close we felt them,
We spoke, as thought today was only the thing in our way,
The thing that held us back from our beautiful unknowns.
Whispers and pillow talks to bring us loser together,
Keeping us locked in our promise, and happy endings.
I was always a wishful thinker.
Eyes drawn towards the skies,
Looking for those fallen stars,
Ready for their fatality to fix the wrongs in my life,
Taking the prayers and dreams of those before me
Wanting them to fix my life in spectacular and promising ways.
But, dreamers and wishful thinkers, their heads so high in the clouds,
They miss what happens on the ground,
Where life continues on,
Not caring for fragile hearts or bright side thinkers,
It moves forward, never stopping,
Never a moment to collect yourself up off the ground.
Hope always comes when you need it most,
But I seem to lose it to often,
So it avoids my fingers, dancing around the tips,
Never letting me fully grasp onto it,
Never able to clutch in close,
I miss the way life used to be,
Behind my rose covered glasses and unspoken truths,
Because the world is full of dreamers and wishful thinkers,
But only those who know heartbreak,
Those who see the truths unveiled,
Those are the ones who rise above it all and make their way into the clouds…
Finding the lost dreams and those wishes scattered on the changing winds.