Fragmented dreams lie scattered in the mind,
Each piece a shadow of what might have been;
They tease the heart with glimpses left behind,
A maze of could-have-beens we wander in.
Some float like feathers, light and barely caught,
Others like stones that weigh the soul with pain;
They teach us truths no perfect plan has taught,
That loss can shape as much as what we gain.
Though broken, fragments hold a secret spark,
A lesson stitched from fragments torn apart;
They guide us gently through the endless dark,
And map the paths that lead within the heart.
So let us gather shards with careful hands,
For fragmented dreams still build where life demands.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem