patches

When life got hard
The tune was played louder
In the heads of those
Lost in dreams.

Each barrier demanded
A more strenuous launch 
Of desires and hopes
Until a door was pushed open.

They swallowed a lot
Good dreams, bad dreams
Other people’s dreams
Trying to salvage some pride.

When life got older
The baggage got heavier
They became deaf to the tune 
Exhausted from chasing dreams.

Opportunity was not
A door to open
But a choice to separate 
Good dreams from bad ones.

Life became nothing but patches
Scattered around
like emotional collections
Of many distant memories.

What purpose of living
Is there left
For those of us
Unable to recollect?

More poetry...

© Jeta B Photography