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Writer
by Richard VinceShe writes her dreams
To escape from her reality
Trapped between blank walls
That stare from all sides
She retreats inside herself
And locks the door
She has no home in this world
Just a place to try and live
And keep a shred of hope
And every night and every day
She weaves a world of her own
Where there is love and warmth
And fairy tales and dreams survive
But that world is no more substantial
Than a word, or the paper
On which she writes
And so she cries every night
A tear for each dream lost
As she tries to find a way through reality
But someone dismantled the signposts
One day she will wake up
And reality will have been
Just another dream 08/21/2000 Posted on 10/08/2004
Copyright © 2025 Richard Vince
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Michelle Angelini on 10/08/04 at 09:29 PM Richard, your poem has intense perspective and understanding. The subject of it sounds like someone you know, but then again, she could be imaginary, or be someone you want to help but don't know how. I like it very much! |
| Posted by Heide McAlister-Bates on 10/08/04 at 10:39 PM Perfect. |
| Posted by Shonda Creemer on 10/09/04 at 02:30 AM the reflection of my reality~a mirror into my world~how did you know? |
| Posted by David R Spellman on 10/10/04 at 01:21 PM Sadly true for many people, I'm sure. Well done. |
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