the void cluttered with dreams
a free verse poem
When we write our story or maybe you won’t. You will be just a spectator and I a writer for the world.
When I write our story and the dreams which we hold. When I write about you do you come to know ?
When I write our story do you hear the music? When I tap the keyboard when the world is sleeping.
When I write our story will you judge me? or let me colour those dreams which you never see.
When I write our story wait for me to come back. I may be lost in forever searching for that ending which is not there.
When I write our story I let the words speak to me, till the void is cluttered with dreams, till there is music.
Written in response to prompt The music of dreams by David for the publication Dead Poets Alive
