The Dreamers’ Lament In childhood, we conceived our dreams; in youth, we gave them birth. And then we worked to rear them, and saw them slowly grow. And we had hoped to leave them strong, before we left this Earth. But sadly, they were ravaged, wrecked— and now they are no more.
The things that we had dreamed of, for which we worked and fought, They still appear as worthwhile, although our dreams have died, as all the things, that we had built, are rendered now as naught. For every time we’d smiled and laughed, we’ve also wept and cried.
The tasks, that we had set ourselves, now must again be done. But who will fight those battles, still, that we had thought we’d won?
And who, we ask, will shoulder now those burdens we had carried? It seems that we have overstayed; for far too long, we’ve tarried.
Our spans of course are limited, yet long enough for woe. We’ve had our sips of joy and now— it’s time for us to go. 2017 March 31st, Fri Brooklyn, New York