Some say that life is but a sweet dream
First it moves smoothly and your face beams,
The sun dancing in your eyes with its beauty.
You start the day with a smile,
You might as well end it with a sadness pile.
All your dreams seem fertile,
Your steps towards them might as well end up futile.
First, you might be given Herculean surprises,
All day long given prizes,
You come up rising,
All and sundry gazing.
Then your loved ones kick the bucket,
As rivers of tears threaten to remove your eyes from its sockets.
You prefer to death to life
But you’re stopped again with desires dire.
Life is not a bed of roses,
It’s a drafting tool capable of making one wane.
A race where no one wants to be left behind
while others creep out of their hides.
Life is neither a sweet dream or a shattered dream,
For not all joys have cream,
Tears sometimes make your light dim
For as long as it deems fit.
The Nostalgic Pen©