Old Musings

Going through some papers the other day I found the beginnings of a poem and I kinda like it...

What good is a dream
if u can't make it real
Why should I touch u
if you can't really feel.

If there is a point
I'm waiting to find it
the eye of a needle
with a camel behind it.

I'd like to give up
on this crumbling world
but there's something inside
that just won't let go.

What can I tell you
when I don't have the words?
Besides, it's something you already know.