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.
Nehaan 