The Next Dreamer In Line

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Do you remember how we used to play? How we extended each other? How we brought your imagination to bear on those willing to listen?

Distant, longer days and nights alive with the bending of boundaries. Souls cast out into the glare of a single spotlight, thrown upon the collective mercy of the gathered few.

We do not belong here. Barricaded in this graveyard of youth by the transient clutter of lives that have altered.

And yet we remain. Strings broken. Necks unbowed. Settled amongst the dust.

Waiting.

Waiting for you to remember.

Waiting for the next dreamer in line.

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7 thoughts on “The Next Dreamer In Line

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