it's wanting in the thrill of years gone by.
Today, an older
shade of those before,
the faded bus will take him through the streets he travelled yesterday,
and he stills his hope once more.
I see him standing alone, his eyes turned to the sky.
When asked,
he answers, "If I could catch
a falling star I would be someone,
I would have something, I live for someday.
For if I wait here long enough maybe they'll give
me
a chance of my own."
Evening is kept at bay by peeling walls
and a fire that smoulders for a while.
Tonight, a colder shade of
those before,
his faded eyes will dance into a world of dreams, no gravity,
and it's here his hopes can soar.
And when he stirs he wonders
just why
his slumber can seem so much more than woken and alive.
When asked,
he answers, "If I could catch a falling
star I would be someone,
I would have something, I live for someday.
For if I wait here long enough maybe they'll give me
a chance of
my own.
How can any find it in them to blame?"
"I know I can live from day to day,
and I know there are others with less than
me;
but my younger dreams of life had more to say,
and I cannot help but imagine what it's like to live in the glittering
of starlight
hopes and dreams come true."