Dreaming

They are still Dreaming. Falling Forever. Weightless and screaming. Dim. Faint and Hopeless. Lost as the abysmal children, never to grow old and won’t know it. They keep filling their lungs with gray smoke to forget that it’s killing them. Wandering streets with eyes reddened and dimmed half opened speaking nothings about everything unessential. The girls dressed half naked to cover shame and paint their nails vibrant colors to cover the singed fingertips. Smiling yellow teeth at the boys holding soda cans and cheap cigars standing in front the corner stores. Other push strollers with little children one handed while holding a cellphone not looking as the car nearly misses. Almost payed the price, something more than the monthly bill that they can’t afford anyway. They are still Dreaming, but telling them to wake up would be stirring a bee’s hive. Who are you to sit on gold thrones in the sun’s reflection and judge the dreamer? Are you not from just around the corner, where your Mother paid rent? The expletives fly from their mouths with tobacco smoke and ash, sharp as the broken glass bottles littered throughout. Retreat. Logic never reaches hearts.