Daydreams upon parched lips
drinking the memories clear
Skiing upon a moonbeam
where destiny may draw near
A voice of a total stranger
turns our heads in many ways
Yet, the cry of a little child
can melt all hearts each day.

I walk upon a mottled land
where death stalks every night
I creep through the forest
where sunlight is never bright
I struggle through the golden sands
where the sun bakes all so dry
And everywhere I look upon
dreamers walk the clouds on high.

We claim we are so different
in faith, color, and sometimes life
We all have families we come from
children, husband or wife
We may differ in culture
or the things we say and do
Yet, we all have red blood in our veins
wishing that are faith will be true.

A bullet or a bomb
to kill what you can't see
Is it because we are so alike
or maybe we will never be
So I step outside my mind each day
to exercise all my dreams
To pray that the hands of Humanity
will join in the dream to be free.

(c) Guy Dan Schuyler
February 25, 2005