But a Dream

A tug at my chest, a dream in my mind,
I wish for something that is not, and never shall be.
My waking dream, my futile hope
Cannot, will never… come to me.

Come to me my precious dream,
My elusive whim, my fantasy.
Ever I picture its coming,
Though I know it shall never be.

I wish for that which is forbidden,
And dangerous to the extreme,
And even during every dreaming,
I know it is but a dream.

If you like this poem, TELL ME SO! Review that is. If you're feeling especially kind, could you review my story-in-progress "Roll of the Die"?