Dreams are all I have,
They're my passion,
Lost almost all of them.

Now, you're giving them to me,
Amazingly one at a time,
Like a missing pile of papers.

Torn from my own journal,
I wonder how I'd replace them,
But I still dare that I'd do.

I'd do anything to keep them,
Happy that you helped me,
Yet you're unaware of it.

It's like a surprise that I enjoy,
Taste that I always...