I was a dreamer, that’s what my mother used to say,
Back when our world was small, and hope was far away.
I wanted just a taste of what success could be,
Though life was never gentle, never kind to me.
I learned too early how hard the road can be,
So every night, I leaned on nothing, but God’s mercy.
They say the best things in this life are free,
But most of them were still so far from me.
Some nights I cried for reasons I can’t explain,
A quiet ache, a borrowed kind of pain.
Maybe what I needed wasn’t more to see
Just a little courage growing inside of me.
I wished I could rewrite my yesterday,
Turn every scar into a softer way.
I wished I could laugh at the hurt I knew,
Instead of letting sorrow pull me through.
Should I whisper prayers to the unseen
And ask Him how to start my life again?
I wished my dreams were just a coin to keep,
Safe in my pocket when the nights grew deep.
If wishes were horses, strong and wide,
Then beggars like me would finally ride.
July 18 2005
Note:
I wrote this when I was young and so poor that I dreamed of escaping the life we had back then. But thankfully, God gave us hope and guided me through people who enlightened me, teaching me that life isn’t just about being rich, but about being satisfied and thankful for every day we open our eyes. His perfect timing and guidance have shaped the person I am today.
