I am no Gatsby.
My dreams are not incorruptible.
The broken shards shimmer, occasionally reflecting an outside thought.
I grasp at the faraway light, hoping.
Hoping.
My dreams are not incorruptible.
I blink my eyes against the light,
Waking up to what I have already woken up to.
YOU ARE READING
A Touch of Wonder
PoetryA book of poetry filled with thoughts, experiences, and emotions. "As I walk down the slippery street, My face streaming with tears, The sadness can barely be sustained. But you suddenly kiss away my fears, My dear umbrella in the rain."
