Fallen Dreams

Fallen Dreams short poem

Photo by torbakhopper

In olden days,
I had a habit of writing dreams
On a piece of paper
And hanging it on the wall.

But now-a-days,
When I look up on the hanging papers
I hung up; reminds me of a halter
Which are all gazing at me.

Yesterday,
When I saw a friend writing on our blackboard
“Optimism is the greatest opium in the world”
I think a while and ensure it is right.

From this note
I learned the lesson
Don’t be too optimistic
Live in real reality.

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