Dreamless Town

It was once a town that never dreamed, so their nights were pretty dull. 

Work, work, and more work. I guess their life was pretty full.

Hope and dreams castrated at an early age, and most of their imagination was locked in a cage called reality. 

This hopeless town stole their taste of an imagination. I think that's robbery. 

It's time to build nothing out of this muddy town, let's call that pottery. 

''Dreaming is only for kids, but for us adults it's time to use our heads'' 

Can the two have no correlation? 

Just because we grow old, we lose our sense of dreaming and imagination?

Because we grow older, our used to be colorful minds progressively get's grey and colder?

When did that started to be accepted? 

And when someone dreams out loud, why do they get rejected?

This town is so naive, and when they open up their eyes maybe they'll start to believe. 

They're so oblivious, but at the same time they're curious.

This town is colorless. 

Black suit, Black pants, and grey ties. 

But it always seemed like it was a little color in their eyes. 

Maybe it was just me being hopeful and telling myself lies. 

This town is beautifully hopeless...

This poem is about: 
My community


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