Dreams are a curse

I had a dream one time.

A dream that felt so real.

I was a hero in this dream.

I saved people,

From evil.

I helped them.

I made them laugh.

It had felt so real for so long.

That deep down,

I knew that even though I was growing up in a shadow,

Where I would never make any difference,

That I would one day rise up,

And change the world itself.

I wished.

Suffered through many days of seeing no light.

Yet I felt it!

I was gonna be someone.

I would finally be important.

A few years passed,

And I was still no one.

I was working so hard-

Believing,

And dreaming,

But it never happened.

So it started to rot.

My mind started to rot.

I started wishing for something bad.

Something evil.

There was no one to save.

The streets were quiet.

What's a life without noise?

There was no reason for saving.

So I wished for something bad.

Something wicked.

Something that would hurt people,

So...

So I could save them.

I had become the person I told myself I would never be.

I looked at myself and asked

“Am I the bad guy?”

We live in a society so perfect.

So normal.

So quiet.

I would kill for just a little chaos.

A little change in my boring life.

Maybe wishing was not how to do it.

I wanted to be something great,

And no matter how hard I worked,

I never saw it.

Holding to a day I never got to see.

Wishes do not exist.

They are fake.

I never had a dream,

That came true.

All it did was turn me into something I had promised myself I would never be.

Dreams are a curse.