Sometimes I wonder why it is what it is
Like those dreams,
Which wake me up in the morning before I want to wake up
They are weird,
Not as much as me though.
The last dream I watched asleep,
I saw you.
Yes, isn't it weird?
'coz I don't think if I still remember your face correctly.
Well, even in the dream,
I saw pictures of you
They were happy pictures,
Of you and your family.
There was everyone who probably matter to you the most
And you were happy.
Though in few pictures,
You had aged a bit,
And started looking more like your dad.
You had slightly longer and curlier hair
And you were cleaned shaved
But you had a magical smile
And you still possessed those tiny dimples.
I saw you had posted happy pictures
And that you have probably started writing
I saw you had written poetry
Though I don't know why some of them were about loneliness
And in one picture I spotted a guitar which you were happily playing with your brother.
You had a small house and satisfied eyes.
I tried to look for you in the dream after I saw those pictures,
But I couldn't find you or your poetry.
Its not likely of me to watch such dreams
Seeing happy people sometimes make me sad or envious
But it wasn't a sad dream,
I felt happy and strangely relieved.
I wanted to save that dream,
I wanted to share it with somebody,
Who's better than you to share it with?
Sometimes I wonder why it is what it is
That its making me write poetry
Its always easier to write poems than talk, right?
