little poem

one day my thoughts, however irrelevant, will fill a book

like a real book,

with pages

and words

and blue ink.

one day my songs, however foolish and romantic, will be sung

by a real person,

with feeling

and heartache

and my love.

one day my dreams, however meaningless right now, will be brought to life

in their own time

with passion

and reality

and my blood.

one day my voice, however bright or strong, will be silenced

the world won’t drop a beat

no more words

no more dreaming

no more song.

one day i’ll pass, unknowing of what-all i leave behind,

but the singing

and the thoughts

and the dreaming?

they’ll belong.



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