My Dream

"Who knows?

Is this the start of something wonderful and new?

Or one more dream that I cannot make true?"

- Justin Hurwitz

I wish to write a poem to you,

A poem which will make you love me again,

I'm short on words,

But I promise I'm not short on feelings.

I keep looking for inspiration,

My soul goes on voyages,

Seeking to poetize phenomenons other than love,

Yet whenever I'm lost,

I think of you.

I'll admit that I'm a hopeless romantic,

Yet what difference does it make,

To be crazy for you intoxicates me,

And even if you were to break my heart,

And have its pieces cut my body,

I'd still be grateful for the memories you blessed me with.

Even if I were to die a thousand deaths,

I'd still climb out of my grave to answer your call for love,

Because you are my poems personified,

You are the sweet memories I've never had,

You are the answer for a thousand prayers,

Because you bring warmth to my wintry heart,

You bring spring to my weathered soul,

You bring your favorite scarf to my pouring tears,

And most importantly,

You bring hope to this hopeless romantic.

The stars repent for not adoring you enough,

Yet they live in hopes that they'll see you again tonight,

The moon is also embarrassed by it's naive jealousy,

And so every night it changes it's appearance,

Yet all stars burn and set a stage for you,

Because you are God's greatest creation.

As my poem ends,

You are cities and walls apart,

You must be leaning out the window while the winds blow through your messy hair,

It must be a heavenly sight,

And so I promise to keep devoting my poems to this dream,

Because this dream steals my sleep,

Yet gives me a purpose to rest.