My American Dream
Is a vast ocean of possibility,
With ideas that swim in the waters,
Waters I stand in waist-deep.

I try to catch an idea,
And most wriggle away,
But I know I can catch one…

Optimism is the most powerful –ism of all;
At our highest moments,
And our deepest depressions,
Optimism shines through.

The American Dream, My American Dream,
Is paved with optimism, with hope for a better tomorrow.

Gatsby sat on the dock, gazing longingly at the green light,
“the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us;”
Gatsby dreamed of an end to his wait,
To return to the olden times, the times that were.

Sometimes, I, too look to the future
By remembering the past, my past.

Sometimes, I, too stretch out my hand,
Trying to grasp the hand of a little kid,
Bobbing in the water, the warm brown eyes
always curious and carefree.

The dreams of my past are not lost,
For I know that I can gain the house,
Ride the corporate swells,
And be able to watch the sunset.

I know that there is a golden glow,
Beyond this place of wrath and tears,
I have to believe in a grand citadel
Built from dreams and swirling sand,

And, as the waters reflect the crepuscular dawn,
Pale pinks and golds lighting the blue above and below…
I know that something gold can stay:
My American Dream.