When I was young I dreamed of the perfect girl
Hair bathed in butterflies
Eyes pure as glass
So much so you could see into her soul
And filled with hope and passion sung her heart
While she slept she was poured into clouds
Traveled far beyond her stars and planets
And soon arrived at what she called home
A desperate dream of family
Met around a table and shared tears of joy
Desires in her hand but greed did not wrap around her finger
Diving into the midnight sky she fell
Suddenly she lands back in her head
Awake to the echoing waves brought from reality
She washed away and was taken to what I called her grave
Laughed at her truth and tore apart her face
Believed she did not belong inside this world of pain
But she is not dead
With all that I did to keep her hidden
To break her soul until no life was given
Unsuccessful
She will never die
As much as I longed to dispose of her dreams
She is still within me but that now… is why I still hope
Because without her, my childhood's mirror
The same of which I tried to shatter
I would be without my body and laid in a bed
Of dirt, I’d be trapped for eternity
So please… do not hate me for being me
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Author:
StrangeNoise (
Offline) - Published: January 3rd, 2023 00:49
- Comment from author about the poem: Children have a kind of passion that cannot be faked, do not let your dreams go because the world told you to.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 8
Offline)
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