Weaving dreams

Sheer and gossamer are the threads with which I weave

Countless dreams around me day and night

That no one else can see.

And like a lonely spider

Suspended on my web of dreams

I lie patiently awake at night

Waiting for reality to pass by me.

Almost everyone I know really can’t see

The web of my dreams as they pass through it quite insolently

And off with them goes a part of my dreams

—I hang on to what is left, till again I can weave.

Once in a while reality does bring me treats

These get caught in my web

And with them I do as I please

But when morning comes back, I look around and see

My web of dreams filled with big holes of reality.

Yet I start again and still again

Weaving finer and finer webs with my dreams

Sheer and gossamer are its threads

That no one else can see.

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