A Father’s Dream

My boy stares out the window far too long
dreaming of ships that will never anchor
of a world where his future hopes aren't wrong
of life sans unimportance and rancor

He wishes to be great and glorious
like a man read about in the papers
Leave me, and a town grief-notorious
soo his dreams flourish like trees for acres

Perhaps if my dreams had more conviction
he wouldn't have to dream, but rather live
without the father and son harsh friction
that our life of grain and tough work can give

But alas, my dreamer has much torment,
longing of airplanes that have no ascent

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