David Harris

Gold Star - 4,611 Points (18 June 1945 / Bradfield, England)

A Discarded Dream - Poem by David Harris

A life in writing is all I wanted
I watched other friends reach
pinnacles I could only dream about.
Their writing shone
like bright stars
as mine just gathered dust.
Rejected time and time again
The more I wrote
The more the rejections grew,
until in the end I looked at what I had
and the years I for-fitted
searching, scrambling for a dream

Every glimmer of hope,
and there were plenty
seemed to crumble
and like sand slip through my fingers.
In the end after my mentor and friend died.
The only person to encourage me
when I was filled with despair
something within in me died as well.

I looked back at what I called
all those wasted years.
I then gave up the one thing
that gave my life some meaning.
Discarded it as a child would a broken toy.
The dream I had was broken,
un-repairable so I thought.
I declined to be a nobody
without any future promised land.
Giving up without even taking a stand.

The years tumbled by
and I found much to my surprise
there was no longing left within my eyes.
The faith I had in myself
also died a lonely death.
The love for what I wanted to do
withered without repair.
I put my pen down
I swore for the last time.
No more would I pursue the dream
that had consumed me

Therefore, down the road
I went swearing never to return.
For years that promise I kept.
The fire flickered and dimmed,
but somehow never died
for deep within the embers
a small flame still flickered alive.
A chance encounter,
a request to read someone else’s work
and comment of two was enough.

To ignite the flame
to burn brighter than before.
Awakening a dormant dream
that had been cast aside.
The dream then flourished
with no ending in sight.
Everyday it awakens more.
Therefore, for those who read
what happen to me
don’t discard your hopes and dreams,
for one day you’ll turn a corner
and those dreams will come true.


9 January 2008


Comments about A Discarded Dream by David Harris

  • (1/22/2008 2:36:00 PM)


    Your dream is alive and well.Write on, my gifted friend.

    Warmest regards,

    Sandra
    (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • (1/20/2008 9:24:00 PM)


    I feel almost biblical saying this, but the seed cannot grow until it lands in just the right place with water, soil and sunlight. And there is something else - that you poem enunciates so clearly - the time must be ripe for the germination. Interestingly, as one also born in 1945, I had no such dream, ever and came upon writing almost by accident eighteen months ago. An honest and humble account of a poet's journey. And we're all glad you finally made it. love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ (Report) Reply

  • (1/17/2008 9:33:00 AM)


    David-
    This has whet my appetite to read more of what you've written. -shannon
    (Report) Reply

  • (1/13/2008 10:18:00 AM)


    Glad to see that your art made it through the rain
    You have so much to be proud of David
    Shout it from the roof tops if you have to
    But know this
    I for one have found a closeness through your writes
    And you have shared much inspiration with me

    Take care

    Love duncan X
    (Report) Reply

  • (1/12/2008 9:22:00 PM)


    And that's the spirit, David..i thank God for you, i have found you, and you have pursued my dream. you have lifted up my spirit, and you are a part of me already..i cannot think of another word to describe you, your dedication, your selflessness...i can only say..You are a man of God, the anointed one.. i love you David my friend, and i care for you..yes, i am..
    Love and hugs,
    Meggie
    (Report) Reply

  • (1/12/2008 4:14:00 PM)


    Sometimes the coincidence of events that seem related show the tendency and capacity for self-repair and auto-regulation.
    Kind regards
    Aine
    (Report) Reply

  • (1/9/2008 7:46:00 PM)


    Well as I scrolled back through the comments...Linda beat me to my lines...I can only add...that I thank God that you chose to write again...and that you were here and was one of the first to comment on me...and that is were our friendship began...I am so much a better person...better writer...because of you...you have inspired me beyond what I could have ever attained...thank you BIG BRUV (Report) Reply

  • (1/9/2008 3:46:00 PM)


    We always seem to think everyone writes better or can relate to others better then ourselves, , , , , , , , just like everyone that reads this thinks you are 'the better writer'LOL (Report) Reply

  • Linda Ori (1/9/2008 12:06:00 PM)


    Sometimes we are our own worst critics. And sometimes, it's just not the right time. I find that my personal life often dictates what I write, and either it's not worth the writing, or it's great! Sometimes we need to take the time to mellow and breathe like a fine wine. I, for one, am so glad you picked up that pen again - you are a joy to read, David, and you have so much to say worth reading!
    Hugs,
    Linda :) xxx
    (Report) Reply

  • (1/9/2008 11:56:00 AM)


    how many share your dream David, how many wish upon wish, liked this, a good write with something
    to think about
    smiffy
    (Report) Reply

Read all 10 comments »
User Rating:
5,0 / 5 ( 7 votes ) 10



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?



Poem Submitted: Wednesday, January 9, 2008

Poem Edited: Wednesday, April 2, 2008


Famous Poems

  1. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  5. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  6. Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
    Mary Elizabeth Frye
  9. I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You
    Pablo Neruda
  10. Television
    Roald Dahl
[Report Error]