Where do our dreams go? Who knows? I wrote this poem in 2016 when I was feeling reflective about life generally, especially when we were younger.
We dream, we set goals, we make plans. But do our dreams always become real?
It was easier when we were younger. It was easier to just dream, make plans and set goals with our peers or alone. It was my escape when I was younger.
I would pretend to be asleep and just think of a life better than the one I had then. The kind of life I would have when I grow up. My dreams.
I had a lot of dreams while growing up. I wanted to be so many things. I am not any of the things I dreamt I wanted to be now.
I can’t but wonder if the plans and dreams we have for our lives don’t matter at all. If life just dish out what it desires to us not minding what we want.
Where Do Our Dreams Go? I had dreamt
Life would be all sweet and colourful
A little challenge here, a little grief there
They keep the journey real and meaningful
I had prepared to be strong
Rise above all hurdles
Ignore all hassles
Who knows what happened to that dream?
‘Cos it’s farther than it seems
So far I can’t catch a glimpse
I’ve never really been happy
Not as I dreamt
I’ve had more grief than joy
Not what I saw
I’ve not attained all I’d imagined
Not as I thought
All I desire is a life so simple
Maybe not as simple as it sounds
All I have is not as I dreamt
All I am is not as I thought
Now, I’m dreaming I might deserve
Nothing more than I am
Only I’ve got more than I deserve