We used to dream of marrying our favorite Beatle
and cried when he married someone else.
We used to dream of being rock stars,
dancing in our room to the music as we sang along.
It didn’t matter if we had a voice or played an instrument,
we just believed in the magic of the dream.
We wrote stories and heartfelt poetry,
believed they were great—or crap, depending on the day,
but dreamed there was a chance that someday,
the world would read them and judge them worthy.
We knew they were pipe dreams;
deep down we knew they had little chance of coming true,
but that never stopped us.
In a world where YouTube and the internet didn’t exist,
we were content live out our dreams in private,
where no one would laugh or mock our efforts.
Youthful hope was free to thrive on far fetched possibilities;
we could be everything we dreamed
because there was no one watching to see us fail.
I miss those days of innocence,
before the shackles of adulthood
forced reality on us all.
Hard work can make dreams come true—sometimes,
but it lacks the magic of making it so
by simply dreaming.
~Elise Skidmore ©2019
Thank you, Susan!
Beautiful with a subtle touch of melancholy, Elise. We still have dreams, perhaps a little less magical due to life’s experiences. Excellent written.
Thank you, Francina. I know we still have dreams, but they are different now. Something special about the innocence of youth. This poem actually started when I was thinking about how different it is today, with YouTube and such, that everyone feels the need to share their most private thoughts and dreams. I mean, I would’ve been embarrassed to death as a teen if anyone had seen me pretending to be a singer in a rock and roll band. Today’s kids would post the video on social media.
Very nice, Elise. Insight and compellingly told.
Thanks so much, Alan. I’m glad you liked it enough to let me know.
I thought I would learn how to play the guitar and marry Joan Baez.
Malcolm, and were you heartbroken to learn she’d married someone else? 🙂 But that’s exactly the kind of reaction I’d hoped for from this poem–to know that each of us from those days can relate to that sense of secret dreams that we’d never have thought to voicing aloud, let alone sharing with the world. Thanks so much for reading and letting me know your thoughts.
A beautiful tribute to the innocense of youth. The memory of those days never leaves you.
Thank you so much, Betty.