Dreaming

I know sometimes the futility of your actions hits you straight on the chest,  flooding your insides with hollowness.  you want to give up  but you keep watering the blue flower,  standing alone in the unceasing desert,  day after day after day  and it never blooms and you don't give up until you do until you stop.  I know it feels better  when you pluck the bud out,  clench it within your fist.  the sound of it tearing  is music to your ears and your grin is huge and your eyes have lost their sparkle.  you tell yourself this is better than keeping the hope burning.  I know the anger soon vanishes leaving behind a hole of hopelessness sucking in your spirit and the desire to dream the world.  you blame yourself  for not being good enough and you'd like nothing more than to lie back in the hot sand and forget it ever happened. what if I tell you to look around just once  and you might just discover that you're not in a desert but in a garden filled with other flowers  that you watered unknowingly while you were busy weeping over the blue flower?  what if I tell you to remember why you started it  all in the first place?  the burst of excitement,  the promise of eternal happiness.  what if I tell you eternal happiness is but a myth and all you have is a now?  then would you give the yellow flower a shot?