Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Another pointless poetry

Every time she lets herself dream
The dream becomes a wandering thought
It wanders to the edge of her mind
And often, out of carelessness,
While her mind rocks in uncertainties,
The dream falls.
Then, over and over again,
They fall.
The fallen dreams become sharp pieces of caution.
Shattered, they cut into the soft flesh
of what her heart used to be.


  1. valo but eita to cynic lokeder moton kotha holo... thik tomar moton na.

  2. lol - amake keo keo bole pessimist, keo keo bole optimist. so ami nijeo janina konta amar moto. :P