When I woke up

Poetry? I don’t think so … but still…

So this piece? I would never call a poetry, mostly because I do not know how to write poetry, I’m more a prose person. Yet, I would not call this as a prose either. It is just a random piece of thought, which came to me tonight. After I woke up from a sort of melancholic dream about someone who I used to know and to some extent called a friend,( even though it was just more an acquaintance and NO – no romantical involvement!), and I haven’t seen him for years. Nonetheless, I had a strong urge to write this words down.  So here we go.. it’s just a rumbling in the language which is not even mine… therefore I most sincerely apologize for the result.

The sweet young boy who I used to know…

I woke up with a sudden thought on my mind,

I did not why. Perhaps it was in my dream I just dreamed.

Perhaps, it came with a pixie dust from a wonderland.

Or I did not know, Oh I did not realize,

that his presence is still somewhere in the back of my mind.

Oh I did not know,

that I still could see the young sweet boy,

who was waving at me behind the window with a huge smile on his face,

a young sweet boy who made me laugh even when I wanted to cry.

A young sweet boy who hold me when I needed to be held,

told me thing I needed to be told,

Even though I was supposed to be the one who is wise and old.

Oh, I suppose he did not know, how much his kindness meant to me,

even though it was a casual one.

Oh, I suppose did not know that either.

Yet, after years I found out,

that he is still very present in my mind.

Or maybe not him, but the picture of a sweet young boy who I used to know,

a sweet young boy,

who might not, actually, existed even then.




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