The Little Dream and Hope

A little dream stood apart,
away from the crowd,
trying to mend her broken heart
while crying long and loud.
And the crowd, they couldn't see
her tears, or hear her desperate sobs,
so intent they were on equality
as is the way with mindless mobs.
The little dream pricked her fingers
trying to thread the needle's eye
still a stain, the crimson lingers
she can't stop crying, though she does try.
And the crowd are still oblivious
to the little dreams plight
their sheepskins look so ridiculous
beneath the harsh fluorescent light.
Then Hope came to stand apart,
"Don't cry anymore little dream," he said
gathering the pieces of her broken heart,
"You can share mine instead."
He offered her with smiles and grace,
helped to thread the needle's eye
wiped the tear stains from her face
and she shakily asked him "Why?"
"Because," he said in conspiring tone,
"You and I are so very rare,
it's not right that we should stand alone
when together we make such a beautiful pair."