Colin F. Jones

DREAMS

I do indeed spend time to think and dream,
Perhaps to escape reality and the world,
For I can only be alone in here, ‘twould seem,
Inside my head like a baby embryo curled.
Each in his cranium dwells; what else is there?
Where thoughts like ones and zeros form the mind,
Each one with a zero to compare,
Flashing little lights be they sad or kind.
But dreams can’t take us beyond what we know,
And what we know does not reach beyond,
We can only envisage what the scene doth show,
The better things in life of which we’re fond….
And dreams I guess are selfish things at best,
But what else is an old man left with to invest?