I wove a sweet dream at a tender age,

And cherished it beneath the endless sky,

But when I shared it with my loving mom,

She patted my back and laughed heartily.

Leaving me with doubt and deep, sheer regret,

Each night, I pondered if it would come true.

I longed to write; why did I then forget or rebel?

Soon, I stepped into the shoes of a teen,

Opening my heart to paths, aplenty.

Brand new directions and new dreams ahead,

Confidence and courage, firm by my side,

Yet all my dreams scattered without a trace,

A jack of all trades, master of no craft.

My comrades soared high, just like phoenixes,

While I remained in fragments, bruised and worn.

I longed to write; why did I then forget or rebel?

Memory spoke as the mind raced for peace,

“How could you forget that long, cherished dream?”

The question at once cleared the fog of fear.

I picked up my pen and revived the dream,

Flipping a new page, at last, I found peace,

Showing me the path I longed to walk on.

I longed to write; why did I then forget or rebel?