Wandering down a corridor of dreams forgotten
A hallway of wistful ideas smothered in dust
Trailing fingers along mouldy walls that are rotten
Innovations of the mind all crusted in rust
Broken picture-frames obscure the floor
Photos of the person I wanted to become
If life hadn't force me to take the back-door
And end up with this unforseeable outcome
Beguiling thoughts of the road not taken
A cruel taste of an idealised life so pleasant
Convines me in this perpetual hallway or haven
Where dreams aleviate the resentful present.
BINABASA MO ANG
Sweet & Sour
PoetryAn Original Collection of Poetry and Prose. Exploring the highs and the lows; the sweet and the sour.
