Every beautiful dream has to evaporate
A new day with question marks on its back
Takes over; Usual questions, usual nothingness,
She looks into herself, as she slowly fades away.
Each beautiful dream, another reflection,
A sequence of hopes, still succumbed to her;
She waits beneath the blanket,
If only the cold would hold them back,
If only dreams were meant to stay!
Beautiful dreams, she learned, are made of clay.
She walks on herself, as a shadow does in the day
The world wouldn't know, for she would never say
The curtains will fall and clocks will call for rain,
A poem someday, I hope will find its way
And keep you alive, if you're awake.
And keep you alive, if you're awake.
No comments:
Post a Comment