I have these dreams,

They come and go but its always the same;

The times of season differ but the content and meaning remains the unchanged;

I have this dream of prosperity;

A dream of riches that I spread and nurture throughout my family;

My riches include knowledge, respect, appreciation, comfort, love, and peace;

The goals I set are all linkages to this dream;

A reverie of prosperity;

I feel like it’s a race to the finish;

I want to be the first to get there, however I don’t mind being last;

Just as long as I am counted in for the winnings;

Those in the race are those directly related to me;

Some have chosen to run this race, others were forced;

We are all in this race, for different reasons;

As the whistle blows, our feet scurry off;

We trample those that are lagging behind;

Some fall as the tides rise;

We are swimming to get to the shore;

This is the first part of the race;

We were forced to jump off the ship;

Many don’t make it through;

Its one of those things where if you don’t believe you can do it, you don’t stand a chance;

The real challenge is when you notice a loved one sinking they are calling for help;

The rules say that you must not look back;

Your heart says you should leave no one behind;

In this instance the choice is yours;

For in this particular race no one is led out to sea to die;

They have just defaulted their chance at the golden medal;

The next obstacle is a race to the finish;

It more like a stampede, if you ask me;

You could easily be trampled to death by the others waiting upon the shore;

Running on the beach is tough enough as it is;

Your feet are heavy;

The wet sand pulling you deeper into the earth;

The cramps in your thighs forges tears to your eyes;

Now running with the burdens of the world on your shoulder;

You are drifting further and further behind;

but yet you still run;

Nothing, no one, can tell you that you are not destined to win;

If in fact you don’t begin feeding the lines of defeat to yourself;

With the sun beating about your head and shoulders you may fall prey, to the heat;

Your mind will become distorted;

Your thoughts jaded;

The enemy becomes your best friend;

Your foe can smell the fear leaking through the sweat on your brow;

Much like a fox the hunt is on;

As the dangerous contemplation of failure overwhelms the mind;

You begin slowly sinking into the sands just before the flags to finish;

You are so close to the end;

However your opponent draws near, and is sure to take you under;

They may even offer you water to heal the soars of your burning throat;

Stopping without notice you sit;

Hoping to find comfort, and the support of a friend;

Only the cup is empty;

Your adversary gone;

Gone with the wind;

A blurred shadow, in the heats wave;

Left behind;

The dreams of prosperity;

Trusting the friends, that are also family

I have this dream of prosperity;

It doesn’t matter if I finish last just, so I am included in winnings;

I’m running daily;

This marathon of opulence;

Trying to catch just a glimpse of affluence;

The contestants are dropping around me like flies;

I can see red in the eyes gunning for my place, in this race;

Nearing the end, I can smell the win;

But as I get close to the lines drawn in the sand;

My mind drifts and I begin to halluncinate;

Has this whole race been a dream;

Am I delusional of such a thing;

Is the world a competitive place;

As I have set the pace for this race;

I have these visions of riches, beyond my wildest dreams;

Is the race a figment of my imagination;

Or is it the dream that is unrealistic…