They swing on real dreams of freedom.
Peace is like things of the past.
Justice is like ice on the lands never seen.
The dream he had was his own.
For he got pay for his speech.
People now can't dream in positive.
For money to dream became working to scream.
Years went by things same lay at the beds and rooms.
Pain anger injustices seem to be their lifelong dreams.
Love was politic in houses called freedoms.
The mountains come down to a city for romancing.
See all colour together was now price on hope to hop.
We never lived by that dream cause times changed for those
of power over powers.
But the poor stayed lying as homeless mixed over and over.
What war stopped since the fighter began?
What paper written was heard when light covering was dark to the bones?
The world better was for that time nothing became a future.
It was a policy statement nothing more or for people.
We had a dream now where is the time for that dream?
Where are the human dreams if we so true to the dreams about us all in all? 

Lionel Fogarty