Dripping of Dreams

An ode to a dream that change its  shape and size by the day and time.

I dreamt of a snowball rolling down my cheeks  turning me into a snowgirl,

         when I was 5 years old,

I dreamt of chocolate house, ice cream shower and a lollipop car and a never-ending treat,

          I was 10 years old.

I dreamt of a beautiful girl with all perfect curves and all praises turning my way,

              I was 16 years old then,

I dreamt of  taking charge of my life and shocking the world with my endless desires and determinations,

              I was 25 years old then,

By the time I crossed the age of 25, 

my dreams were turned into ashes, as the heat waves of human touch sour into my dreams.

By the time I was 30 years old,

     I dreamt no dreams but reality.

     I turned  moments into dreams and lived the dream.

Not because dreams lie but the time does.    



What do you think?


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Written by Great.S.Upase


Writing is the echo of one's soul,

Song of unheard calls,

And weaving of dreams.


Que sera sera

Talking To No One