Your Dream (Poem)

In the satchel, I held your dreams.
The keys to your happiness.
You tried to pull at my seams,
But I would not let them go.

Your flaxen hair outlining your face,
Good tempered with your pale skin,
And you begged, love displaced,
But I would not let them go.

You offered up your family treasure,
The gift from both father and mother,
To purchase your dreams without measure,
But I would not let them go.

Because I knew if I took you there,
If I let you follow me into the dark,
That you would be left robbed of your flare,
So I would not let them go.

And I ached, how I ached, to learn,
Just how you could sell yourself so easily,
A beautiful girl, not meant to burn,
So I would not let them go.

You cried that the bear had left you,
Running out in the wonton winter,
And why you needed them, now I knew,
But I could not let them go.

I played the Joker to your regal Queen,
And pretended to take on your vices,
Your eyes sparkled a verdant green,
But I could not let them go.

The baby, the cradle, bird and nest,
I found you where no other could,
Dislike me for knowing you best,
So I would not let them go.

Some day down the line, you may thank me,
Or perhaps you will just forget what I’ve done.
I kept you from falling from the tree,
Which is why I could not let them go.