The forgotten dreams’ keeper

White and black keys, fingers gliding,

melodies glistening;

I was four when Dad took me to my first piano lesson:

“You know what, sweetie,

I will learn to play it too,

very soon, you’ll see.”

but I wasn’t paying that much attention.

 

A prize in Math, good grades in Literature,

something about me being smart, and will have a bright future;

I was six when Mom went to my first-grade parents-teacher meeting,

“You know what, sweetie,

I was an A student, just like you,

I could surely have studied abroad.”

but I wasn’t really listening.

 

I was fourteen and my fingers were dancing on black and white keys,

Dad didn’t know the chords, he couldn’t find time to learn,  

“You’re awesome at this, sweetie, 

keep on, and surprise me.”

 

I was eighteen and couldn’t wait to get admitted into a college in another country,

“I didn’t get to go, but I met your Dad,’

Mom smiled and continued her story,

“and we had you, my good girl, now you can go wherever you want to be.”

 

Mom had her chance, Dad had his,

but they chose to leave their dreams behind

for me to keep mine

 

but little do they know

I turned back and followed the paths in stories they told;

I picked those dreams up, I dusted them off,

and now they’re with me wherever I go

 

for now I see it all 

what I never noticed,

what I never listened to;

 

they were hearty dreams, they were forgotten,

and they are meant to soar

Forgotten dreams
(artwork by me)

2017.04.20
Mia

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