Those silent whispers untold and unheard
Clog those blank spaces I cling by
Some day when I look back at those
Some day when I only have them as ours
Will they still be mine?
Will they still echo deep within my heart
Will they still revolutionize my world?
For, the point in time where I stand, I have them to hold on to.
At times I grow tired,
Beaten by life
Sunk in worries
And as I cling to those blank spaces
Silence becomes defeaning.
But I rise and smile at those memories
And I count my life in them.
The one thing that I always had dreamt of as a kid was to have a caravan that could take me to places.I always wanted a gypsy styled life. The idea itself mesmerized me to the extent that I kept dreaming of it the whole time not even realising how it was time which kept on rolling but I stood exactly at the same place, my dreams could never concretize. What was laughed at as a childish game was so important to me that I keep doodling it in my memory till now. I see a meadow, lush green with those small daffodils growing by, perhaps Wordsworth's daffodils! Then I see a girl, her wild unkept hair sailing in the gentle breeze. She has a smile which speaks of solitude, and her heart , well that's swelling with happiness as he looks at her caravan, after all she finally has a life on wheels. What more could she wish for, what more can anyone wish for? It's not always that we get to live a life we conceived as a kid, life keeps on deciding our track. From what we liked doing...
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