A Bridge, Some Dreams
When that sadness comes upon me
That mystic, mad melancholy;
When realization hits me
I am here, now, my body and bits of my soul
Some of it, but not the whole.
There are fragments of me left in this city
Bits of my heart, parts of my destiny
Brought me here; sometimes when beset by self-pity
Motes in my eyes, holes in my heart
Torn, torn, and almost forlorn.
Walking on a Parisian bridge
Stepping to another tune; wait a while:
A song is yet to be sung, let me wait for another rhyme.
There are clouds and there are dreams
Dreams, yes, as misty as those clouds; I, myself at times
Seeing myself walk on, walk on, plod.
There are bridges and some dreams
Still, there are paths to be trod.
Copyright: Rani Turton
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