Afloat


Afloat

The words drowned,
As quickly as they rose,
To the shore.
Reflexively, reflectively,
Leaving behind a gaping
hole,
In my very core.
Not a clue, not a trace,
Of how much time has
passed,
And how time has passed,
In such haste,
That there I lay,
Wasted, basted, lambasted,
Left with minimal grace,
With an unrecognizable
face.
Gone are the traces,
Of familiar smiles,
And doe-eyed, dreamy eyes.
In their place,
Remain orbs,
Dull, glassy, lifeless,
Lost trying to find a place,
Given up on the hope,
That lit their gaze.
Dreamchaser, Dreamcatcher,
They just remain mere
nicknames,
Traces of who I once used to
be.
The one they called the naïve
idiot,
Too bullheaded to think that
Dreams could be reality,
They all snickered,
As they saw the naïve idiot,
Being broken down over time,
Broken by the bitter lashes,
Life’s executors took pleasure
in whipping away.
They all cheered,
When the final remnants,
The glint and glimmer,
Of the idiot dreamer’s,
Hopes and aspirations,
Were burnt,
By a bitter flame.
When all I was reduced
to,
Was just another face,
In the weary faced crowd.
And just when they thought,
They’d broken every piece
of the dreamer down,
A part deep within,
Hidden…unseen…unbidden,
Flickers to life.

SJ

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