The Girl In My Dreams

There's one person who's always on my mind...

24x7, in class, when I'm with friends, 
when I'm taking a bath, 
when I'm trying to get some sleep, 
when I'm supposed to do my homework.
That person's always there.

But she doesn't exist. 
And I have to keep dreaming, in vain.

That is the life of this soul, oscillating between reality and fantasy.

Devotion to a being that doesn't exist, 
obsession with a person who I'll never meet.

Perhaps that is what I am, and will continue to be, a 
hopeless dreamer...

When I pick up my pencil, my hand immediately draws her face,

When I erase, I lose a part of myself in it.

I write, and the first word that appears on the paper, is her name.

The bell rings for the interval, she walks into my mind.

I forget everything, and she's all that's left.

I try to think of another, but that name echoes on.

She's sitting here, she's standing there.

In times of crisis, I look to her, asking, "What would you do?"

She tells me an answer, and I take the plunge

If it's right, I thank her.

If it's wrong, I blame my incompetence.

Is that the path of a dreamer, Or that of a lonely soul?

The last light in this world of fear, or a place for the lazy to go?

Will this become something worthwhile, or merely confuse?

Is this what hope is, or a mere illusion for fools?