Dream Street

Oh, the many nights I have walked along the Lamp-lit lane of Dream Street, passing All the musing dreamers languishing there, Like those who chase the dragon as their Refuge from the world, and along that street, those Leaning lamppost stand, caressed like lovers, Held for comfort from the grief of unrealized Desire and hopes unfulfilled, as the singers And writers who pretend to fame, and Poets prattle endless lines upon lines for an Elusive rhyme; but sadness is the poem they Write, for their dream is as a mist before the Garish Sun, melting yearning into tears which Stain morning's pillow - the fantasy interrupted - And Dream Street succumbs to an austere daylight Until eyes close again, and we vagabonds stroll Along that windswept street, strewn with the pages Of hope and the heavy sighs of dreams denied.