When I was four,
I would wake up crying
from a monster's roar
or from fear I was dying.
When I was four,
I would wake up sighing
for I can remember no more
the sensation of flying.
When I was four,
a dream catcher, I got
I hung it on my door,
so I'd get good dreams a lot.
Now I'm fourteen.
I realize there's no such thing.
No dream catcher, or machine
that will give you wings,
make you a king,
or make every day spring.
To live your dreams,
you are your own dream catcher.
