wasted dreams
We wasted our nights
dreaming under a canopy of muted stars
that looked at us with sadness and broken hopes
in their eyes,
even as we waited and wondered when
our turn would come.
The new dawn was joyous and bold;
but we missed the way it left a red dash
across the sky, just for us,
pointing the way west—to the ocean—
and so we stayed and waited another night,
another thousand years.
And time passed and no more chances
were given to us;
and so we dreamed by the seashore,
by the churning waves,
and wondered why our turn
still did not come.
YOU ARE READING
Ephemeral Obscurity
Poetry❝I have never been myself as much as I have with you and all these words.❞ A beginner's attempt at poetry, exploring a few different forms and voices while trying to convey loss and beauty. Organized alphabetically, so feel free to read in what...
