Some dreams, they are not to come true.
Dreams that shape your life.
Dreams fulfilled make you
Reach the end.
Dreams left unreached
Keep you going ahead.
Dreams left in the past.
Dreams lived in the past.
Fragrant with sweat and laughter –
Shining as the lake in hot summer.
Alive with pounding heartbeats,
With hurried footsteps
Eager to reach their dreams.
A thousand brittle dreams
Dreamt in acute life.
Stretched green richness and fast wheels,
Sleepy afternoons and leisurely cushions –
Dreams made in broken conversations.
Lengthened concrete with no dust;
Dust that creates dreams.
Rolling years of regularity
Welcome with stifled smile.
I look back for dreams,
Weaved but left to remain, just dreams.
- Simantini Sinha.