Dreams

Dreams.
We all have them.
So real, so close, so tangible
we can almost reach out
and touch them— 
yet
they remain elusive,
evading our 
whispered wishes,
tears shed in despair,
mind and body worn
from toiling on and on without end.
I shout my hopes to thousands of stars—
one of them must hear my pleas.
But they just disappear each night,
without a single remark or reply,
or even a half-hearted goodbye.
The blushing sky 
turns blue,
and pink cotton candy clouds
float on the horizon.
The golden light warms my heart,
so I rise
and begin the day’s work,
the same as ever,
the same hopes and dreams
waiting for some star
to hear them someday.

I know I'm not a princess in a fairytale—
Yet I'll always wish on stars anyway.