The Price of Dreams - a poem

Freedom... we drive by a prison bus on the highway and thank God we are free. Is it so? Are we any more free than they?

How many of us spend eight hours a day working for people we don't believe in? Whatever happened to dreams? What is the price of dreams? Most people in the world worship a god backed by gold, and sacrifice him for their own personal luxury. We wake up. Eat. Work. Eat. Work some more. Eat. And then we reap the benefits of those sacrifices in front of a glowing box of moving pictures fixated on who may win the next big singing or dancing contest... All the while dying a little more inside as the days go by.

who wins in the end? Is it the guy with the most toys? The guy with the home in the gated community with three cars and a boat in his garage. The guy who when he came to the fork in the road took the easy path as opposed to the one of dreams. Because the path of dreams is hard fought. It takes heart. You have to sacrifice luxury for the big picture. You have to dig down deep when the world is mocking your determination and grit. You have to grind it as the waters that form a canyon wall.

How do you measure success? Is it a CEO in the oil industry with the big desk in the corner office? Was THIS his dream? Does he die a little with every promotion because it's too late to turn back now? What is the price of dreams?

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