Shed a tear and know it’s wasted for it’s gone.
Dreams are just that, elusive goals for fools
reality has a way to trampling underfoot.
Dry your eyes, why waste water and go.
Alone in the desert solitude
dreams with the right cactus
can become temporarily visionary, attainable,
but then reality rises from the parched cracked earth.
The one you aided in its destruction
slapping you back with the uncaring hardness of it.
Makes little difference when you come to know
dreams are for the sleeping or the dead.
You are neither. My guess is it be a better thing
to not cry but simply work the tools you have.
Clamp your reality tightly, mercilessly in a vise
and heat it, beat it, shape it until it is yours alone.
© M Durfee