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It's a brittle, broken dawn
And the dreams begin to die
As the cold light of the morning
Makes the moon begin to cry.
As everyone awakens
Reason tries to take away
The ambitionb and the longing
That for all the night holds sway.
And rising from their pallets
All their logic will destroy
Their hope of doing something
Which they know will bring them joy.
The cause of lunar weeping
Is that when we come to choose
We tend to pick the sensible
And it's our dreams we lose.
©2008-2009 ~peripheral-vision
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Submitted: May 11, 2008
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I wrote this when I was trying to pick my A levels, and had to work out which of my favourite subjects to drop. (I kept the sensible)
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