In the quiet of the evening, dreams take flight,
Whispers of hope in the stillness of night.
A tapestry woven with threads of desire,
Each expectation, a flickering fire.

Eyes closed tight, hearts open wide,
Wishes and wants, in our minds reside.
The future, a canvas, blank and bright,
Painted with hues of envisioned light.

Yet shadows of doubt creep in unseen,
Casting a pall on the hopeful sheen.
Expectations, a double-edged sword,
Can lift us high or leave us floored.

But still, we dream and still, we yearn,
For without them, what do we learn?
Each expectation, a guiding star,
Leading us forward, near or far.