Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Dreams in ink

In a hidden world, there are things to be found,
A thought, a dream, a teddy bear or a broken hand,
Etching dreams on the white paper of memories,
With ink spills and beautiful curves spread across…

Red check marks reminding of the cold mornings,
With fresh apples, milk and bread to start the day,
And sometimes reminding of the hearts you drew,
On the small paper card which was thrown away…

Little circles of blue, holding hands, going around,
With some little shiny shoes and some not so shiny,
Yelling, screaming, laughing, crying and whispering,
Sharing hundreds of things wandering in little heads…

Green pencils draw the grass where you used to run,
Every evening with the hope to reach the pillar first,
Ink spills reminding of the moments when you did,
And realized that sometimes it meant reaching alone.


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