My Dream That Isn’t Mine

Sometimes I remember it all:

I see my name, my desk, papers…

And I just want to cry because I see myself in there.

 

It has been years since I gave it up,

since I realized it was a dream that needed to go.

It was always a fantasy,

a fictional future built with hopes and dreams.

I needed that imaginary world back then, it allowed me to continue,

it has brought me to where I’m standing now.

 

But I miss that dream so much,

nothing has replaced it,

nothing has even been close.

It was my dream, and now it’s gone.

 

In a way, giving it up has made things easier:

less sadness, frustration and disappointment.

 

But today  nothing matters because I’ve remembered my dream,

I saw it

read it,

felt it,

smiled at it.

 

And I feel so sad, so deeply sad.

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About silviaeningles

I’m Silvia and these are some interesting things about me: I was born in Puebla, a beautiful city in central Mexico. It is an old city, founded in 1531 I live in Vancouver, British Columbia in Canada I have a blog in Spanish that you’re welcome to read (http://comenzandolashistorias.blogspot.ca/) I love hummingbirds, tea and Mexican candy I really enjoy when readers write and comment on my posts I love writing, and I really enjoy poetry (reading aloud my favourite poems always makes me happy)
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