A Poem about Chasing Dreams

She looks through the window,

So far, she can see.

The horizon, it beckons,

The sunset, it bleeds.

A symbol of freedom,

A wild scope of hope,

Possibilities, endless -

Destiny's smoke.

She knows not how she'll get there

But one day she will,

Can't live going nowhere,

Can't forever stand still.

In her heart is a story,

In her soul is a dream,

Can't wade stagnant waters

Got to swim a new stream.

Inside, mindless shouting,

Resentment fills cracks,

Makes walls far less stable

Like life might collapse

And the misfired blame

Breeds frustration; lost hope,

Loss of potential,

It's poverty's joke.

Eating food out of packets,

TV always on,

Fills that space in their minds,

Motivation has gone.

Her parents, just sitting

In a drink-sodden whirl,

Her brother, he fights

With his mates, at the world

And they can't see beyond

The invisible fence

And they don't take control,

They just live in pretence.

They think life just happens,

She knows that's not true,

Got to grab it and live it

It's all up to you.

She knows she is different,

Wasn't meant to stay here

With this quiet acceptance

Of drudge-tainted cheer.

The street, broken bottles,

Just yesterday's 'fun' -

False laughter now shattered

In the weak, morning sun.

They all say she's quiet,

A voice, never heard,

But she sits in her room

And she writes secret words

And one day she hopes

That the world, they will read

Just a piece of her heart -

She could be on TV

Or the shelves of a shop,

In a bag, on a train,

By the pool, on a lounger,

In a cafe as it rains,

An escape for the masses

Like escape was for her,

An alternative world

To inspire and repair.

She always sees beauty

Or at least something more.

As she writes, so she dreams

Of a wide-open door.

They think she's a loner

But she sees all of life,

What it is to be human

All the highs, all the strife.

The police at the door,

It's her brother again.

He broke a shop window

With a gang of young men.

Her father, he hits him

Then swears, has a beer,

Then they turn on the football

And holler and cheer.

And she's inspired by music

And she's inspired by hope

And by down-trodden tales

From now-famous folk

Who lived in the ghetto

Yet still made it through,

If they can ride higher

Then she can fly too.

And she never gives up

And she never believes

That she can't reach the top,

That she'll never achieve

Her name on a book

A dream in the making,

Creating new worlds,

Her goal undertaken.

So the days turn to years

And her brother's inside.

Her mother's at bingo

Eyes still on the prize

That can bring her the riches

She thinks she deserves,

She'll be waiting forever

With a mindset like hers.

And the girl with the words

Is not there anymore,

Riding high on a rocket

She found the right door.

Someone believed her

Took a chance, helped her ride -

She held on, she made it

And she's happy inside.

This is a poem about a girl who chased her dreams. She lives with a passion to write - it is her ultimate ambition in life to have her own stories published and to become a successful author. However, it could be a poem about anyone with any kind of ambition - the main message is that she never gives up on her dreams; she pursues her goals no matter what. She never believes that life is simply something that happens - that people are either born lucky or not. Rather, her philosophy is that she is the author of her own life; that she can shape her own destiny.

In the poem, we learn a little about her family. I think it is clear that they don't really believe in her. In fact, it seems as though they barely know her. It isn't that they don't love her or don't care - there is no evidence to suggest this. Instead, I think that they don't understand her. She stands out in the family - she is breaking the mould by pursuing something that is, for them, outside the realms of 'ordinary' existence. A picture is painted of parents who do nothing in respect of bettering their lives and those of their children. They drink; bicker; search for 'the big win' in terms of bingo prizes (and probably lottery tickets). They buy tickets for the 'easy ride' to the top (as opposed to being motivated to take charge of their own futures). Of course, the odds are against them and the big dream never comes. Life is a chaotic struggle - "the walls are less stable, like life might collapse" and "loss of potential, it's poverty's joke" lends us to the idea that this is a family marred by low income and general frustration, probably living in an area of high unemployment.

Perhaps they feel inferior and yet hide it under a mask of aggression, feeling that this is their 'lot' in life. Certainly, the father does not bother to handle the situation when the police come to the door for his son - he merely loses it and hits him, then they settle down to watch a match together. Perhaps they have merely given up, or inherited these ingrained behaviour patterns from their own parents. Perhaps they believe that dreams are for other people who were dealt a better hand. The poem paints a picture of general discontent - "the street, broken bottles, just yesterday's fun - false laughter now shattered by the weak, morning sun" portrays a segment of society attempting to conceal its frustration with vices like alcohol - a temporary comfort that wears off by the morning and leaves their lives painfully exposed once again.

The girl, on the other hand, believes in grabbing life and moving forwards. Whilst her parents and wayward brother 'wade in stagnant waters', she chooses not to. She keeps her dreams in sight and never lets go. Her passion is strong and her mind is too. She knows exactly what she wants from her life. She doesn't want an easy ride or any handouts. She wants the kind of satisfaction that comes from reaching one's own potential; from realising one's own talents and from reaching for goals.