Its my dream..

Many shows I’ve seen,
hidden in plain sight,
yet always in the spotlight
before any of the stars
take my place again;
It leaves me in pain,
though happiness I feign.
I wish I could take heart,
realize it wasn’t meant,
but alas, it is my dream,
meaningless it may seem;
For once to stay chosen,
to show the stories I hold.
From the new to the old;
to dance as I’m unveiled
to reveal, another story.


Topic: Write a poem about a lifeless object narrating its experiences in life. (Given by Gyanban here)
Image: Photography of the curtain by Antara (.here.) I imagine it to be a stage curtain.


(’11. dec 28.)
signature-leo

Poetry & writing to me are to me, a breath of fresh air in a life that is sometimes covered by the smoke of sorrow or self doubt. They also become the sweets I share to celebrate when life offers me a reason to. But most of all, they are to me, my life. For each word I write is a piece of my heart, a thought that just had to find its way into the world.

14 thoughts on “Its my dream..

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  1. It’s my dream, well said. It may not impress nor interest all but it’s our own. Most meaningful to ourselves. Only living within own dream will one glow and shine, not just for ourselves but for everyone around us. Lovely!

    • Everyone has their own dream, why shouldn’t a curtain, as it waits for the curtain-raiser 🙂 Thank you for finding it beautiful, Clarice, and also finding the meaning behind the post too!

  2. This was such a touching poem! You know, somehow I could picture this old man with a wrinkled face sitting in the stands,facing the stage and saying this. Beautiful.

    (Thanks for using the picture 🙂 )

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