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The Dreams of a Child
When I was a child I wished to see the stars, to fly through the sky on a pair of wax wings like Icarus,
But those wax wings melted under the sun just like those dreams melted from my desires.
From time to time, I still look back to the sky above me, and those petty childhood dreams return for a second.
Yes, for just a second.
And the next second, they're gone.
A bittersweet melancholy drifts over me,
But life must move on, so I must.
The desire is still there, buried deep within, but nevertheless it is there.
And every once or twice I enjoy the childhood dreams I had, greeting them as if they were an old friend.
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Not everything has to be let go of, even the most whimsical of dreams.