I thought you might,
then I awoke to myself
saying ‘might’ to me,
The night stepped out
of a slumbering deep
and found the stairs
to that courtyard dreamed of
covered in plastic lace
and bird calls recorded
on round black disks
turning, turning, turning…
There, departed sea chests
breathing gold,
starfish, unicorn horns
and king’s beards
wrapped in tiny blankets
woven from undone queen’s gloves.
Who may not want to have an ambition?
Even with many difficulties and on run?
Can any one extract it at the point of gun?
What if we cut a joke and make fun?
It remains at the heart core
Asking for more and more
No one may be exactly sure
Will try to make it simple and pure
What is good there in becoming a star?
Dream will still be distant and very far
It may shine dimly and constantly remind
Why not try for it and certainly find?
Your tears may flow and fill the sea
It is not “You” or “Me” but only “We”
I prayed for shed under the tree
I wanted all to feel great and free
You wanted to be little away
I had no words to offer or say
How could I be possibly given in?
You were in your lovely and looked teen
Should I term it as saddest day if at all?
Can I take it as sincere and final call?
Am I failing clearly to see it on wall?
Will it prove or result in my down fall?
