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Poem

Someone came to the door of grace
With a dream clasp at hand
A picture of white laces, picket fences
Glorious man holding her hand
Solid grip as if to say all this is all
This is me
This is all of me
Only this will bring happiness
Layered with peace
Full to the brim with joy
Sequined dream on a mind hill 
Of every up and small town girl
Sharing but one life vision 
Or is it but an illusion?
I came to the funnel of mystery  
Of which generations foretell of a history 
Face to face with the dream
Begging for some piece of me 
Some more of me at the brink of salvation
Craving for truth
Is this me?
Is this all of me? 
Inside my dream I saw 
Locks and chains on delicate wrists
Where every form of movement
Tears and breaks
That white has gone bright tinged red
Gone deeper and deeper in shade
Until black
Surely life is more than this
Is this life for all?
Is this me?
All of me? 
I closed the door of my once ago reverie
Found myself surrounded by divine sympathy
Cradled in mercy
of unexpected and undeserved
Comforted by hope
Life is more than just one dream
More than just one door
Or one corner of every road
Compelled to seeking truth
The choice of life more than its world-set guise
The limitless marvel of natural wonders
Color after color of surprising hues 
Life is more than every inch of a broken glass
As even splinters so deeply cut 
Also heals in time
Every breath that grasps life
Is worth another dream
For life is more than me
This is me

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