| Another box emptied, another poem found. In a cool dark night She bends her head down Into the breeze. She sings along and lets Her mind wander . . . Wonder about other things Farther off - but not too Far beyond. A star that burns brightly For her, and only When she is successful - but This is not life. It is Daily words and smiles, Songs and birds and Water fountains. Dreams are only reality To a selfish dreamer. Life is more difficult- It is sharing the good . . . And the bad. And trusting tha the world Can still be wonderful Even with this dichotemy. |  |