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Daydreams
Why do we search in a daydream,
pondering fantasies there,
looking for unexplained reasons,
wanting real life to compare.
Born within sad, lonely spaces,
places that dwell in the soul,
conceiving that one perfect image,
lover, illusion or goal.
Those fanciful dreams we’d created,
carefully shaped in our mind,
mended those heartbroken spaces,
reality now seems so kind.
In truth, it’s merely a daydream,
oftentimes kept locked away,
releasing in sad times or bad times,
escaping the boredom of day.
Just let them remain playful musings,
things that would never be real,
use them for self-centered reasons,
easing the sorrow you feel.
Never feel guilty ’bout dreaming,
questioning fantasies there,
daydreams are wondrous illusions,
use them when life isn’t fair.
