I stared out the window one dreary afternoon
To watch the people on the street go by
Neither sun nor rain were seen
My eyes saw a Kansas gray sky

Dorothy sure had the right idea
Wanting some color in her life
Her walk was fruitless, futile, worthless
Why were we born with dreams to fly?

Imagining something so far from reality
It's great to think of fantasy
But pondering life as it is real
Creates wounds that won't heal

My body is not where my heart is
Five fingers on each hand holding on
To something worth cherishing

If I think I can fly and dream of it
Why can't I see the ground from above?
It's all a dream confined to my brain
Since I've dreamt everything, why do I live?

I stare at the window one dreary afternoon
Shattered by this world's rocks
Such are my dreams, none to ever be
always, falling to pieces before my eyes

-Jonathan Cullifer

Poetry