Lost Dreams by writerforever

When I was little I would dream

I would dream big and wondrous things

I imagined myself doing things for people

Helping people and doing great things

As I got older my dreams became more real to me

And I worked at trying to fulfill them

I wrote a book

And at the age of fourteen got it published

I was on cloud 9 and I had such high hopes

Everyone told me I was foolish for dreaming

And that my book wouldn't do much

I didn't listen to what they said

I remained hopeful

But now, here I sit with tears caressing my face

For I finally realize that my book, my dream, cannot be

No one wants to read it

No one cares about a country boy's little ol' book

People tell me "Well at least you got a book published at such a young age"

"Be thankful for that"

And I am thankful

But still my heart is broken

For I now know that I will never be anyone

Now all I have is lost dreams

Lost dreams and a broken heart….