I feel like I've awakened from a pleasant dream,
only to find out it was a nightmare.
Now that dream is distant from within,
yet so close around me.
These zombies who are half alive,
their selves denied, repressed.
Somewhere there must exist others
who see the dream for what it is.
The maze of people continues
down the streets of yesterday,
looking for tomorrow,
never seeing the present.
Night turns to day,
a different trance,
another song to mask the self.
Steel the mask, fake the lies
that constantly pursue with quickened pulses.
This senselessness bores me.
It ripens my soul for genuine seeds of the fruit,
which bears the passion of the Universe.
I think perhaps I may have to create this dream within,
or I'll be without for eternity.
To dream is everyone's legacy.
But, what we dream about determines our fate, our journey.
So, I'll dream a little dream of dreams.
Sherman R. Buck
May 26, 1993