To some kid or myself, or all of us.
Here’s a box with someone’s dreams.
They look a little dusty.
Some of them are hardly used,
and some of them are rusty.
But they’re pretty good dreams-wipe one off.
It almost looks brand new.
I don’t suppose that any of these dreams belong to you?
If they do then clean them up, this dust will make you sneeze.
And when you find a good one, could you share it with us please?
Some dreams are meant for sharing, some are meant just for yourself-
but none of them are meant for sitting dusty on a shelf.
© Joe Thompson
Today I cried for a wounded child
a deluge of tears from long ago
never convicted, yet unforgiven
an innocent child I used to know
My friend I hope you’ll understand
inside there’s a child no one can see
if you’ve kept them locked away
isn’t now the time to set them free
I can share my joy with the world
my past due debts are reconciled
and I can finally love you because
today I cried for a wounded child
A comic I made about a conversation I had with my inner child last night.
I’m just gonna post this now and hope it works because I wouldn’t have the balls to post it in the morning.
Couldn’t have said it better myself. Some kid should pay attention.
George carlin said “A house is just a place to keep your stuff while you go out and get more stuff.”