Impractical

They said we were impractical, at best,
For dreaming of world that could not be.
But with their reasoning we weren’t impressed:
And went about to find our destiny.

There’s many focus on what is, what seems:
For without striving, there’s no fault or blame.
And true, we never found all of our dreams,
But dreaming them was pleasant, all the same,

And what remained was not that bad at all.
Impractical, improvident were we,
But happy, all the same, despite the pall
That some would cast our way, decidedly.

  But here’s the thing: which fault is really greater,
  To lose your dreams today, or wait till later?

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s