Walking With Dreams
Alone on the corner, the dark, cold, wet corner,
Worn cobblestones holding the peace,
Tight to its chest, like a pillow at rest,
Laid flat all over the street,
And he walks alone, deep in his mind,
His mind clean and lucid and clear,
For all the small things he must do for his world,
His mind can vividly hear,
Each idea and belief, each little thought,
He listens to the dreams that he dreams,
He follows his heart on the path full of love,
He walks where the cobblestone leads,
And tonight is his night he clears out his hurt,
Tomorrow his story won’t end,
Because, on each cobblestone, in this dark, cold wet night,
He’s walking his dreams once again.
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