What are Dreams made of?

if dreams are
secret desires, hidden
and ignored
by the conscience
due to society's
comformity,
then, I
still
want you.

I remember: Mornings

I remember the days
Where 5 slept in one room.
5.45 the alarm sound
Its shrill and urgent call.
I continue to log,
In annoyance, in pretense,
In desperste attempts,
To not depart Dreamland.

The rustle of linen and
A gentle voice,
A gentle nudge,
"Jasper, Denise, Kerry,
It's time for school.
Wakey, wakey."
Would be his usual call.

On special occasions,
Verbally, he would
Plan out our future,
What he envisioned of us.

"You will leave high school,
Graduate from university,
Wear that square hat,
And that business suit,
And the veil..."
That was mine.

***

I remember the days
Where pots and pans clank,
Before day break.
Earlier than the birds,
Or the Sun,
Breakfast was on its way.

The last clank of the pots and
A gentle call,
A gentle reminder,
"Jasper, Denise, Kerry,
Eat your breakfast.
If not you'll be hungry.
Would be her usual nag.

On special occasions,
Diligently, she would
Lay our morning meal,
Our ultimate nemesis, Eggs.

"You will eat them and
It will be good
For your brain,
Your memory..."
While we struggle to swallow.

Prose of Gay

Once I tried to write a prose of gay,
Not of bliss,
But of love,
But after the first page it was nay.

Cause they made eyes mist,
Not of joy,
But of loathe,
When the boys kiss.

"Love is beautiful"
People said.
Feeling mirthful,
When they mate.

Yet when mates of
Same sex comes together,
They become bitter and
It is a put off, taboo.

unknown knowing

how well do you know me?
how well do i know myself?

*smile*