Dream

The beaches so unclean
and minds of people,
my time whole day
was made so lethal.
I go out in evening
and see the sun, the trees, the mud
and wind of the season.

They give me nothing 
no work of worth,
no pay of worth,
but still I wish and 
long them my space.
A little time to live my dream,
a little time to live that dream.
A small one will do with me,
and give that happy sole its key.