| Story ID: | 1625 |
| Written by: | Lyndsey Darcangelo (bio, link, contact, other stories) |
| Story type: | Poem |
| Writers Conference: | $100 Best Inspirational Post Contest |
| Location: | Buffalo USA |
| Year: | 2007 |
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| Story ID: | 1625 |
| Written by: | Lyndsey Darcangelo (bio, link, contact, other stories) |
| Story type: | Poem |
| Writers Conference: | $100 Best Inspirational Post Contest |
| Location: | Buffalo USA |
| Year: | 2007 |
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Resurrecting A Dream Eighty-four, knees weak, arms sore Sat in a chair, staring Wondering when it began When exactly had he stopped caring? His brow creased, mind recalled A love for singing sweetly Bringing dancing feet to meet the beat A dream that somehow ceased to be His voice once pure and sharp Tickled the ears of the congregation Pickled by his determination His father disapproved his art Jaded, soul stifled, feathers ruffled His dream faded, lost in the shuffle Attention to his studies hardened Gardened condescension for his father Time climbed, years disappeared Argued the law in front of a judge Saw money roll in, prosecuted crime Inside him grew a tiny grudge Held against those who had decided Confided in him, their dreams And chose to follow their desire As he was supposed to have done Regret saddened, belly fattened Hair receded in the mirror A reflection maddened his stare How had life gotten so unfair? Money, family, should be happy Could have traveled another path Pulled his wife aside, said, “honey” “I think this marriage has unraveled at last.” Heart broken, words unspoken Spent life alone, uninspired Tired of the law, soon fired Moved on from the place he called home Now he sat, spent days reading Felt old, out of touch, in a haze Awoke one morning, told himself “I’m much to young to be in mourning” Crept along the sidewalk, cane in hand Stood on the corner of the street Belted a song, clapped the beat People swept by, tossed bills at his feet Day after day, hour after hour His voice danced along the breeze No longer sour at his life choice He took a chance, followed a dream Joyful faces, smiles galore People often wondered his story Took many ways, many miles For him to arrive at this place of glory A local legend, they deemed Famous for his vocal styling An old man so gracious and beguiling Never too old to realize a dream |