The skin colour,
The race,
The religion,
The caste,
The nationality,
The age,
The gender,
The finances,
May have stopped few dreams from flourishing.
But where, there is a will,
One makes a way
Even on stormy seas,
Even in feisty dunes,
Even with few breaths left,
Even with loads of constraints.
Dreams only turn realities,
When they cross boundaries of division,
And become real in existence.
These divisions can only be ephemeral barriers,
Which can never stop,
A true dreamer.
YOU ARE READING
ACHES [Wattys Winner 2015]
PoetryAin't we drowning but still floating in our complexities of love and hatred, happiness and sorrow & life and the journey. Short stories and poetry about true living i.e living through an ache and coming out of it. Want to meet my words in versatile...
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