I saw a photo of some ol’ classmates on Facebook, and that sparked something in me and I wanted to write something about it. Heck – now the idea have formed, I might even try to illustrated it as well. I mean, what else are dreams if not ghosts that haunts you ’til you either give in or give up?
I was so tired that I fell asleep when I had figured out my dreams.
I woke up with new dreams, so many, so tiring and I fell asleep once again.
I woke a third time, realising that I was never going to live my dreams.
I was too tired, too weary – too old.
Exhausted I crashed to sleep. My dreams took over and at an instance I was happy?
I woke up – not tired, but not rested. I looked around and saw that life had happened
without my participation. My dreams lingered around me like ghosts.
Was this it? Was my life to tiresome to live that even the dreams to betterment to far from my reach?
The dreams moaned and drag me down. How do you deal with a lifetime of dreams so old
and so forgotten they are more haunting than inspiring?
When I was young I didn’t sleep, I hadn’t the time. I had to live my dreams – all of them.
The dreams came, beat me down and left me a broken shell without hope.
All those hours staying awake – now a scare to pick and nothing gained.
I fell asleep finally, making up for lost sleep, only to wake up in a room full of new dreams.
These weren’t new dreams, these were broken dreams. Dreams lost that I didn’t knew I had.
Dreams of friendship – now lost.
Dreams of opportunities – now gone.
Dreams of different futures – now past.
Dreams of other dreams – never to be dreamt.
Dreams of losses – never had but still painful.
My last dream was to dream no more – only to live.